


The Making of Zeno Vedast.

by springburn



Series: Random musings from The Capaldi character file. [15]
Category: Inspector Wexford, Peter Capaldi fandom (not RPF), Ruth Rendell, Some Lie and Some Die - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Feels, Big surprise, Dubious Morality, F/M, Hurt and comfort, Life Changing Decisions, Love, Peter Capaldi character file., Rockstar AU, Smut and Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6100168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a year since the murder of Dawn Stoner. Zeno Vedast is fed up with Nell Tate.<br/>He wants to be rid of her. His new house in Kings Markham is a bolt hole.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Je Suis Un Rockstar.

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins a year after the events of the television programme.  
> Zeno has had a second successful album and is beginning work on a third, at least he would be......if his creativity wasn't being stifled! 
> 
> Zeno is a bit of a bugger really. Not a very nice person. Dubious morals and a spoilt and selfish life style. 
> 
> Something has to give.........

THE MAKING OF ZENO VEDAST. 

CHAPTER ONE.  
JE SUIS UN ROCKSTAR.

"Please Zeno? Pretty please?"  
He pushed her away roughly as she tried to cling around his neck.  
"Oh for gods sake! Stop bloody whining Nell. It's all you do! I'm sick of it. I'm not paying for you to have surgery. You don't need it, you're fine as you are!" 

She pouted petulantly.  
"God! You're such a tight bugger. I thought you'd like me looking nice?"  
"Shut up for goodness sake! Get out of here.....I'm trying to work."  
She left without another word. Slamming the door behind her. 

With a scowl Zeno went back to his guitar, trying out various chords, humming along, pausing to jot down a few words on a note pad lying on the little table beside him.  
Writing songs the old fashioned way.  
It was the way that suited him best. 

A year had passed since the trial of Leonard Dunsand, and the murder of Dawn Stoner. 

Zeno had caused quite a stir, turning up to give evidence.  
Dark glasses, long coat. Quite the model. Suitably contrite. 

Inspector Wexford considered it all an act. 

Lucky to avoid a custodial sentence, the judge said. But they had nothing on him really. It was a practical joke, albeit a malicious one, that backfired spectacularly. 

It rankled that Nell had been so eager to transfer all the blame to him, soured their relationship, it was as much her idea as his own.  
Bitch.  
He'd learned a valuable lesson though.  
Never trust a woman. Never trust anyone. 

Fame bought the worst out in people, it certainly bought the worst out in him.  
Spoiled and selfish as he was. Nell was just as bad though. So were all the people around him.

Clingy, manipulative, quick to cash in on his success. Lured by the aura that shone around him.  
They all wanted a piece of him. 

All take and no give. Well, he could be the same.  
They wanted what he could provide them with, the kudos of being in his circle. Money, clothes, cars, all the material trappings. They didn't want him at all. False and untrustworthy. 

Pretty much the only person who was not in that camp was the hapless Goffo.  
Godfrey Tate, his manager.  
Married to Nell......well, at least he was. Not anymore. He divorced her after the trial ended.  
One too many times he'd sat by and watched his wife wrapped around his employer. He'd had enough. 

Nell and Zeno had been slowly but surely sucking each other dry ever since.  
She had thrown herself onto him, after Goffo cast her aside. Needy, desperate, sad. 

He'd put up with it for a few months. The excitement of the dalliance with someone's else's wife waned. Then it began to get on his nerves. Besides, she stifled his creativity, with her constant demands, sweet one minute, spiteful the next. Two could play at that game.  
All he was concerned with now was how to get rid of her, in the least painful way possible......to him. 

She'd outlived her usefulness. She bored him rigid. He didn't even find her sexy anymore.  
She was just a monumental pain in the arse. 

Today he was at the London studio. 

He was just looking for an excuse to let her go. Now she'd just given him one. Yet another request.  
Always bloody asking him for something, never satisfied.  
A bloody meal ticket.  
Well, it was going to stop. 

Slamming down the pencil, he packed his stuff away, unplugged his guitar, left in a rush.  
Back to Davett Gardens. South Kensington. 

She'd be there, he knew, waiting.  
Walking in, he found her still slamming about. Furious. As he entered the room she turned on him angrily.  
"You don't love me any more." She began, tearfully.  
He gave an eye roll.  
"No! I don't. I never did. It was fun Nell, it was exciting. Now it isn't. You get on my wick. It's not about what you can do for me, it's all about what I can do for you. And it's over." His retort was immediate.  
"WHAT!" She screamed, "Why you ungrateful son of a bitch!" She launched herself at him, finger nails bared, vicious as a Tom cat.  
Fending her off, without hurting her, he caught her wrists firmly and held them.  
"You'd like me to welt you one, wouldn't you? Like Goffo used to? Well, I won't. I don't hit women. But I'll tell you this......I'm going down to Kings Markham. When I get back, I want you gone. I don't want to see you again. You're poison Nell, and you're bad news. Now pack your stuff, and get out."  
He released her, and before she could protest or argue, he grabbed a bag and left the house, without another word.  
In fifteen minutes he was on his way down to his house in Kent. He'd bought it from Martin Silk, after the Kings Markham festival. It backed on to Sunday's Park, where the concert had been held.  
It was his bolt hole. With its own studio, and he loved it. 

On the way he phoned Godfrey.  
"Goffo! Get a couple of girls, bring them down......I'm in Kent for the weekend." 

 

oOo

He should really rid himself of Goffo too.  
There were plenty out there who would make an infinitely better manager. Godfrey Tate was a weasel.  
Somehow he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it.......yet.  
But it was coming. 

It had been three years now since the phenomenal success of "Let Me Believe."  
The album the track was taken from was still in the top fifty. His follow up album had ridden high on the publicity surrounding the trial of Dawn Stoner. It had been another huge hit.  
Another number one single followed, "You Don't Love Me." At the top of the charts for ten weeks.  
He had recently finished a very successful and lucrative tour. 

For his third album he wanted to go more towards the Rock that was his roots. His distinctive vocal style was well suited, he could carry a ballad, or a more up-tempo number with consummate ease.  
Writing, however had proved difficult. Nell was messing with his head. The ideas wouldn't come. 

Unusually for one in his position, Zeno did not partake.  
Never into drugs, or drink, his strongest tipple was orange juice with sugar in it.  
But he loved women. They were his weakness. 

Girls were never difficult to come by when you were Zeno Vedast.  
Groupies were ten a penny. The main problem was knowing how old they were.....a young girl who said she was eighteen could quite easily be fourteen.  
So he was careful. He screwed around......but there were rules.  
On the tour he'd been fending them off.......throwing themselves at him, into his bed.  
A quick shag, then they were taken care of by Goffo. He always used rubbers, whether they said they were on the pill or not. Couldn't be too careful! 

They were used and discarded........the girls as well as the condoms.  
It was all the same to him.


	2. Party Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeno is back in Kings Markham......

CHAPTER TWO  
PARTY HARD. 

 

Making a dutiful appearance at his mother's when he finally reached his destination, as she always liked him to call by. Pathetically pleased to see her son. Still living in the village where Zeno grew up.  
"Harry! Darling! What a lovely surprise." She ushered him inside.  
"Mum, no one calls me Harry! For crying out loud. It's Zeno!" He huffed.  
"You're Harold Goodbody, and you're my son!" She countered.  
"I bet Elton doesn't have to put up with that!" He retorted. "No one calls him Reg!"  
"I don't care about Elton. You're my Harry. You always will be. Now come and have some tea!" 

Later at his house, he waited for Goffo to arrive.  
His housekeeper had prepared food, he'd rung ahead to tell her he was driving down.  
She was a nice woman. About his age, she lived in the village too. She cleaned, kept the place aired, fresh flowers in the hallway, food in the fridge, drinks, beds made up.  
She came to the door when he arrived.  
"Hi there Sophie my love!"  
"Hello, Mr Vedast. Welcome back."  
"Call me Zeno!" He winked at her, and she blushed.  
Pretty little thing. Small and dark, brown eyes.  
Single too.  
"Everything alright?" He slid his arms out of his coat and she took it from him.  
"Pretty much. The gardener has been working on the flower bed idea you had, I've left the invoices for his expenses and the plans on your desk. The decorator I found has finished the guest bathroom. It looks really nice. All your correspondence is there too, and there's a message on the answer machine from Mr Tate. Mr Silk rang earlier and said he'd pop over tomorrow if you're free.  
The boiler is on for the heating in the Studio, so it's warm in there if you want to work."

He stared at her, eyes wide.  
"Blimey! Get you! Aren't you the organised one? What do I pay you? Clearly it's not enough!"  
He chucked her under the chin, but she backed away.  
"That's up to you Mr Vedast. I'm just doing my job." She replied, backing away hastily.  
She hurried from the room, not looking back. His eyes followed her retreating rear view with an amused smile. 

oOo

It wasn't long before Goffo arrived. With two bimbo's in tow.  
The rest of the band arrived too, with their wives and girlfriends. Three of them, Jim, the drummer, Barry, bass guitarist and Nigel, known as Nige, who played keyboards and guitar. 

Pretty soon a party was in full swing. Music playing, drink flowing......the swimming pool in full use.  
Sophie entered just as one of the girls, stark naked, got out of the water, joining Zeno and her friend, the three of them lying together on a lounger. 

She coughed slightly to alert him to her presence.  
"Excuse me. Mr Vedast. But I'm going now if there's nothing else you require." She shifted uneasily, as he surfaced from a deep snog.  
Grinning up at her, unfazed, he smiled.  
"Why not stay? Join us!"  
"Er. No thank you. I'd rather not." Her face flushed scarlet.  
"As you wish! Tomorrow then? Not too early." He turned to carry on where he left off.  
"Monday, actually. I've seen to everything you'll need for tomorrow, I'll come back on Monday morning."  
There was no reply other than a dismissive wave of his hand and giggles from the woman underneath him. 

Sophie cycled away towards the village. What a truly nasty piece of work he was!  
Spoilt. A brat.  
Self absorbed. All the morality of a chimpanzee on heat. Sniffing round as many females as he could.  
It nauseated her.  
But work in the village was hard to come by, and despite his dubious morals, he was a good employer. Paid well.  
Beggars couldn't be choosers.  
Her mother was ill, Sophie cared for her, she needed the money. 

oOo

Come Monday morning the place was a complete pigsty.  
The girls were gone. 

Empty bottles and debris lay around everywhere. Discarded clothes, takeaway cartons, fag butts.  
She quite expected to find him in bed with someone. But there didn't seem to be anyone about. 

Eventually she found Jim asleep on a sunbed by the pool. Nige in the conservatory with his wife, draped on a couch. Barry was nowhere to be found, but had actually made it to a bed, with his girlfriend. Goffo too......alone. 

Zeno had apparently vanished. 

Tying on an apron and donning rubber gloves, Sophie started to clear up. The band members began to surface slowly, one by one. Bleary and hungover.  
Nige, with a sore head, wished her a garbled good morning. 

"You seen Zeno?" He groaned.  
"No, but I'm not going into his bedroom!" She retorted.  
"I'll go." He stomped off up the stairs, but soon returned. "Not there. Bed's empty. Must be in the Studio." He slumped down on a kitchen stool. "Take him a coffee will you sweetheart?" He asked. 

Sophie sighed, at the name. But did as he requested.  
Crossing the lawn to the Studio which was situated in a small copse, well away from the house.

As she neared the cabin like building, she could hear the sound of guitar chords coming from inside.  
She stopped by the door to listen.  
He had a good voice, melodic, a slight rasp, enough to be pleasing and give it an edge, distinctive.

 

 _"Never sees me......._  
_Never knows I'm there, doesn't notice,_  
_Doesn't care._  
_Sweet girl, please be mine,_  
_Sweet girl, don't waste my time......"_

It was a surprisingly lilting song, the chords light and delicate, Sophie was transfixed for a moment. She heard the playback switch, then knocked lightly.  
"Come!" His voice answered.  
"Good morning! I bought you coffee." She said as she entered.  
He'd clearly been working for some time. Up long before the drunkards he was surrounded by.  
Hard at work. Discarded papers on the floor at his feet.  
It appeared that in spite of his flawed character, he was at least diligent and seemed conscientious, where his art was concerned. 

"Thanks!" He sighed.  
"Sounded nice." She remarked.  
"You think?" His eyes brightened. "It's something I'm working on for the album."  
"Not your usual stuff though? Ballads?" She said, setting down the tray.  
"On a creative roll at the moment. I've got rid of Nell. She was cramping my style!" He waggled his eyebrows expressively.  
Seating himself in an easy chair, he bought his legs up, hugging his knees. Feet bare.  
Just a long streak really, nothing of him. Unruly curls. Bright sea green eyes. A boyish smile.  
He held out one of his delicate hands, in a friendly gesture.  
"Sit!" He said, "join me!"  
She demurred.  
"I have work to do."  
"Surely it'll keep for ten minutes!" He reached forwards, pouring himself a coffee.  
"You're used to getting what you want, aren't you?" She said, ignoring his offer of a cup.  
"Pretty much." He replied honestly.  
"I always get the impression your life is all an act. I used to think you had no conscience whatever. Especially after the Dawn Stoner affair. But then I heard you go to visit her gran. My mum told me, they are friends. She said you'd been very kind. Or is that just an act too? To make you look good. That's what mum thinks."  
He shrugged noncommittally.  
"I don't give a shit what people think. I go to see Dawn's gran because when we were kids she was nice to me."  
"So there is a shred of decency in there somewhere then!" She replied, "maybe the business with Dawn taught you a lesson."  
"You're very forthright aren't you? Considering you work for me!" He scoffed.  
"I say it how it is, I'm not going to toady up to you because you're the great Zeno. It doesn't impress me one bit. You're my employer, I don't have to bow the knee before you. I do my job well. Better than most could. I work hard and I know how many beans make five!" She held his gaze steadily.  
"Hmm! I could really get to like you. You've got guts. And you're not afraid of me.....like a lot of people are! I like that!"  
She laughed.  
"Afraid? Good lord no!"  
"So.....you think I should work on my image? Be a nice guy. Behave better towards people?"  
He gave a smirk.  
"It certainly wouldn't hurt you to try! It's good that you got rid of Nell Tate. She was a scheming cow, and she spoke to me like I was dirt on her shoe. She made your behaviour worse. You're better off without her."  
He unfurled his legs and picked up the guitar......beginning to strum. Chuckling all the while.  
"Well, well! My little Jimminy Cricket. On my shoulder. Teaching the naughty boy right from wrong! Telling me what's good for me! I've had seven years of that, toots, and I haven't listened yet!"  
She picked up the tray and made to leave.  
"Well maybe you should start. It might make you less of an arsehole." She shot, "oh, and don't call me toots!" She swept from the room.


	3. Near Miss.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeno does something stupid.......

CHAPTER THREE.  
NEAR MISS.

 

The following week was a constant trail of people coming and going. Zeno refused to return to Davett Gardens until he was certain Nell was gone. He wished to avoid a confrontation. He would cut her out of his life completely.   
Besides, after the hectic tour he was burned out and was grateful for some much needed R and R. 

The only person who stayed at the house constantly was Goffo. Who didn't seem to have anywhere else to go. 

Sophie didn't like Godfrey Tate. 

She considered him scum. 

His influence on Zeno was such as to render him even more unpalatable than he probably actually was. If that was possible. Zeno was undoubtedly a nasty piece of work at times, easily led, childish, but there was at least a modicum of restraint about him. Goffo was quite different.   
He was an alcoholic, and he was violent when drunk, as Nell could testify, she'd sported black eyes several times that Sophie knew of.   
He was a pig.   
Zeno neither drank nor smoked, nor did he take drugs, although a couple of the band members did, and several of the parties Sophie witnessed had certainly been drug fuelled. It appeared that the host absented himself at such times, and she had to admit, she wondered why. 

His real weakness was women, she knew, he also liked driving fast. He often passed her, driving Goffo's great big fuel guzzling car, as she cycled back and forth to the village.   
It was on one of these occasions that the accident happened. 

She was returning to the house after lunch. All the guests were gone and only Vedast and his manager were at home.  
Knowing she would not be required until later, to provide food for the evening, she'd set out just after midday. 

Humming to herself, lost in her own little world, she'd not seen him coming until the last moment.   
Rounding the bend in the driveway, going like the clappers, foot through the floor.   
He saw her at the very last second, and swerved.   
A shower of stones and a screech of brakes, as the car slewed sideways. Narrowly missing her.  
She was flung from her cycle, onto the gravel. Knees, palms and one cheek scraped as she fell. 

Leaping out, engine still running, he ran to her, just as she was picking herself up. 

"Christ! I'm sorry! I didn't see you!" He began, his face genuinely frightened.   
"YOU STUPID STUPID BLOODY IDIOT!" She cried. Her bleeding hand held to her bleeding face.   
"You could've killed me! What in God's name were you thinking?" 

He knelt by her side, moving to take her elbow and help her to her feet.   
"GET OFF ME! You've done enough damage already! Ow! Bugger......my face! Look what you've done to me, you crazy berk! What IS it with you?"   
"Let me take you back to the house. I have a first aid box......" He seemed contrite, shaken even. 

So much did her hands and knees hurt, that, holding her left cheek, she allowed him to help her.   
Seated a few moments later, in the kitchen, he began cleaning her cheekbone with antiseptic, with surprising gentleness.   
Hissing, as the sting hit her, she tried not to pull away.   
The shock was setting in, and she was trying her hardest not to cry, blinking tears away angrily, as he concentrated on cleaning the grit from her face.   
"It was an accident! I didn't mean it!" He tried, penitently.   
"You never bloody mean it though do you? Yet you still do these things! When did you get to be such a monumental twerp? I mean.....you're so clever.....with your songs and your lovely music.....but the rest of it? I mean......you're like a three year old!"   
He moved on to her hands, as she held them outstretched, holding her fingers in his own, sweeping a piece of cotton wool across the grazes that bled there.   
"Sorry!" He offered, his voice subdued.   
Tugging her hand away, she started on him again.  
"SORRY? Well that makes it okay then! Everything's fine! It's just a bloody word Zeno! Like when you said sorry to the judge.....at Dunsand's trial. Sorry! It doesn't mean anything.....not coming from you. It's just so much bunk! Shit!! Ow! That bloody hurts!!"  
She examined her right hand carefully, testing her finger movements.   
"It's lucky I didn't break something.....like my neck!" She continued. "You could have had another death on your hands! But the shit doesn't stick does it? Not to you! GOD!" Exasperated, she made to stand up and move away, limping slightly.  
"Christ! If I didn't need the money so badly I'd tell you where you can stick your stupid job!"

She began to cry in earnest.   
An arm was wrapped suddenly around her shoulder. His face was close. In a moment his lips were brushing hers.  
"I love it when you're angry, it makes me want to kiss you." He whispered hotly. 

The slap that caught his face was a hard one, it made his eye twitch with pain.

"What.....so you're coming on to me now? Unbelievable! First you try to kill me, then you try it on with me? Can your ego possibly be that big!" Her eyes bored through his with a vicious resentment.   
"Touch me again and I'll rearrange something.....and it'll never work properly again! I'm not one of your groupies or your vacuous airheads.....you nauseate me! HOW DARE YOU!" 

He backed away rapidly, arms held away from his body, but a slight smirk of amusement on his face.   
"I'll take that as a 'no' then." He breathed. 

"Damn right! In some countries they'd chop your hands off for that! Now leave me alone.....or I swear I'll......" She blazed with furious indignation, unable to find appropriate words. 

"Okay! Okay! You've made your point. I get it! You're immune to my charms! It won't happen again!   
Don't worry! I was just being frie........." He defended.

"You were just being Zeno!" She interrupted, "That's what you were just being......and you thought I'd crumble into your arms and melt like butter.......well I've got news for you pal......I'm not interested. So back off!"   
His smile was gone, replaced by an injured expression. 

"Do you want me to take you to the surgery, get your grazes seen to?" He asked then, as if to diffuse the situation. 

"No! I don't want you to do anything for me. Ever! Do you understand? You're advances are not welcome. Just stay away from me.....okay?" She dried her eyes, and tried her best to collect herself. 

"Okay. Sorry!" He shrugged again, he looked like a little child who had been scolded for being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.   
"I'll be in the studio, if anyone wants me. Or if there's any calls." He mumbled, and hurried away.   
Leaving her to gaze after him, shaking her head with disdain. 

She watched him sprint across the lawn. He ran from the knees, with his long legs, like a gazelle on steroids.   
Sophie found she was smiling to herself at the odd sight, as he disappeared into the studio.   
Moments later she heard the strains from the Stratocaster, filtering out and towards the house.   
Then saw Goffo, crossing the path, heading in the same direction. 

The music ceased abruptly, there was shouting, and Godfrey Tate was forcibly ejected, stumbling away, without looking back. Walking across to where his car still stood, abandoned at a crazy angle, where it had come to rest, the engine still turning over.   
Climbing in, he reversed at speed, straightened the motor and drove off in a flurry of gravel. 

Rock stars! God! What were they like!


	4. Hear Me Sing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie complains to Zeno........

CHAPTER FOUR.  
HEAR ME SING. 

Nothing much ever happened in Kings Markham. So the murder of Dawn and the Rock concert, and the coming of Zeno Vedast....back to his roots......had caused quite a stir around the village. 

Most had been disappointed though. He was not quite the high profile they'd envisaged.  
Kept himself to himself most of the time. The comings and goings well hidden at the top of the long tree lined gravel driveway that led up to the big house. 

Occasionally press people tried to poke a camera lens through the leafy canopy. But they rarely came up with much.  
On a couple of occasions, Sophie had been collared either arriving or leaving the house, but she cycled passed with her nose in the air and they got nothing.  
Nor was there anything story worthy to print to be had from the locals, the village shop or pub, where rumour and gossip might be rife, they really had nothing to tell. Even Dawn's gran had been approached for a juicy snippet, and had set her wire haired terrier onto them, chasing them down her path, snapping viciously at their heels.  
They went away empty handed. No story. No headline. No nothing. 

Zeno spent a great deal of his time in the studio. 

The band members were sometimes there with him, but mostly he was by himself, tinkering.  
Godfrey reappeared after a couple of days sulking. But Sophie had the distinct impression his days were numbered.  
Each time she saw the two together there was a vocal spat. A slanging match.  
Godfrey had been with Zeno for a long time. Severing ties with him was not going to be quite as easy as telling Nell to pack her bags. 

Goffo was bitter. He stood to lose everything. More than he'd lost already. He was owed.  
Zeno owed him, he wasn't about to walk away without a fight. Or suitable recompense.  
He was drinking more and more heavily, and Sophie did not feel comfortable around him. 

She voiced her concerns to her employer one morning, after she arrived for work and Goffo cornered her, making lewd suggestions. He hadn't touched her, but she was frightened, and she didn't want the situation repeated.  
He was in the kitchen, making a sandwich when she tackled him. 

"Mr Vedast? Zeno? May I have a word?" 

He looked up, and licked butter from his thumb, with an enquiring raise of his eyebrows. 

"About Mr Tate." 

"What about him?" He slapped the buttered slice on top of the filling and squashed it down with his fingers. 

"I'm sorry, but I'm not comfortable being alone in this house with him." She shifted from one foot to the other, slightly embarrassed.

"Why? What's he done?" He took a large bite, and mayo squished from the sides. 

"It isn't what he's done so much, as what he's said. I'm sorry Zeno, but I don't like him and I don't trust him. Especially when he's drunk. If you're in the studio and there's no one else about......" She trailed off. 

Zeno stopped chewing and looked at her in surprise. 

"He wouldn't dare! He wouldn't do anything.......he's just a piss head." He continued.

"Sorry, but I don't agree. He cornered me the other day, and I was scared Zeno. Really scared. So if it's all the same to you, I'd rather you were about when he's here, so I'm not alone with him, or that he goes down to the studio with you." 

"I'll have a word with him." He concluded, with a scowl. "I had no idea. Sorry. But he's harmless enough." 

"He's far from harmless. And when he's drunk, he's downright nasty." She retorted, " Oh, and by the way, you have mayonnaise on your chin." She smiled and left the room. 

oOo

It was sometime later that she heard shouting. A steaming argument.  
Creeping to the bottom of the stairs with her duster and polish, she listened. She'd missed the beginning of the altercation, but as it gathered momentum she couldn't help but hear. 

"........so you bloody keep your grubby mitts off.....you perve! Okay? She's my housekeeper and chief cook and bottle washer, she does a hell of a lot around here, and I don't want her to leave because of you, you prat! She's good at her job and I like her. So leave her alone......capiche?"

She didn't quite catch the muffled response, but she heard Zeno's reply. 

"You don't know what you're doing when you're pissed. You're pissed now and it's two o clock in the afternoon!"

This time the retort was audible.

"Since when have you been into defending the honour of a 'lady'?" She could hear Goffo laughing, heavy with sarcasm.  
"Or are you going soft? ......Fuck 'em and leave 'em.....that's your code of conduct......isn't it?  
Doesn't matter who they are.....half the time you barely know their names!" 

There was a crash of something breaking, as the drunkard stumbled about.

"This is different. She works for me. She's under my roof and she should be safe......and she doesn't feel safe......not with you pawing at her. So fricking well leave her be. She's not interested in you." 

Another laugh. 

"Not interested in you either, by the sounds of it!! Immune to your charms is she? Too clever for you? You've finally met your match Zeno.....a woman you can't have.....who's not interested in fucking the great Zeno! Must have been a dent to your ego that one!" 

She sensed Zeno's anger rising. 

"Oh piss off Goffo. I don't want to fuck her! She's a nice girl and she doesn't deserve to be mauled by you." 

"I don't believe I'm hearing this! Have you got religion or something? That's all women are good for, you said! A bit of fun......like Nell! Till you get bored. Then you ditch them......what's different about this bit of skirt?" Sophie heard Godfrey start to hiccup loudly. 

"She's not a skirt, or a groupie or a bimbo, she's not like Nell either. She's different, and she's working for me. She deserves to be respected. She's the first woman I've met for all of the seven years I've been doing this, who isn't interested in taking something from me. That's why I treat the others like I do.......because that's just what they want. They're not interested in my thoughts or my feelings, or anything else, they're only interested in the fame, the notoriety, the money and all the material trappings. They get what they beg for......a piece of Zeno. Then it's goodbye, sayonara! Then they sell their bloody story to The Sun! That's the way it is!" 

A door opened from the living room, and her employer crossed the hall rapidly and disappeared from sight, speaking over his shoulder as he went. Sophie ducked behind the stairs. 

"If you can't keep your hands to yourself, you'd better leave. In fact, why don't you leave anyway?  
I'm trying to work, I don't need you here with me, like my minder or my babysitter. Why don't you go home for a while? Dry yourself out? Pull yourself together. Come back when you're sober!" 

She emerged from her hiding place, shocked by what she'd overheard. Was that really how it was for him she wondered? What a miserable existence!  
Just as she was about to sneak away, Goffo stumbled into the hallway, and saw her.  
He came towards her menacingly. 

"Don't be fooled by him sweetie pie! He's a manipulative bastard, and what he wants, he usually gets. No matter what the cost. He sucks people in, then spits them out. And you are no exception! Don't think you are, because you're not. You're not special, or different. You're just a woman, there for the taking. And he'll make mincemeat of you!" 

Before Sophie could come up with an answer, he staggered away. 

oOo

"Sophie! Please will you be sure to tidy in the studio today. It's a mess." Curled on a sofa, his long legs tucked up under him, Zeno was idly perusing the newspaper.  
"Okay." She replied. " I haven't been able to get in there, because you've been working. That's why it's not been done."  
"It's not a criticism!" He intoned with a shrug. "I'm just asking, that's all."  
"Alright, I'll see to it." 

She crossed the lawn to the wooden cabin like structure. If the truth be known she like Zeno's studio. It was cosy, warm and full of interesting equipment, and his collection of guitars, which fascinated her.  
Entering, she surveyed the debris. Dirty cups and plates and pieces of paper screwed up and tossed aside onto the floor.  
This was going to take a while.  
Zeno collected old sheet music, there were shelves full of it there. She polished the piano, then ran her fingers idly over the keys. It was a Steinway, a lovely one, with a good tone.  
On a whim, she pulled down a file, and leafing through it, she found The Beatles. Abbey Road. 

Should she? 

There was no one about. She hadn't heard Zeno padding across the lawn, a coffee in hand, ready to start work for the day.  
At the sound of the first notes, he stopped abruptly. Smiled to himself, then cut back along the tree line, to approach the picture windows unseen. 

_"Golden slumbers close your eyes......._  
_Smiles await you when you rise,_  
_Sleep little darlin, do not cry_  
_And I will sing a lullaby......._  
_Once there was a way, to get back homeward......_  
_Once there was a way........."_

A beautiful singing voice. Clear. Tuneful and sweet. A pain hit, right in his chest, as he listened. Made him feel peculiar.  
Bought a lump to his throat. 

Zeno turned and walked slowly back to the house, flinging the contents of his coffee cup into the bushes as he went.


	5. The Foundling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeno receives a parcel.........

CHAPTER FIVE  
THE FOUNDLING.

Zeno was back in London. 

But he was restless and out of sorts. 

Writing for the new album had stalled.  
Only four tracks were down. Although he was convinced that two of them still need tweaking. Another couple half written, not enough for an album by any stretch of the imagination, and he wasn't sure the material he had was of a standard he would be entirely happy with.

His best song by far, was _'never sees me'_ which Sophie heard him singing the day she interrupted him in the studio. He'd spent a long time on it, mixing, experimenting. Reworking and tinkering.  
It was now called _'Doesn't see me'_ with a reprise of the first verse added and a pleasing guitar riff after the refrain. Zeno considered it the best thing he'd written since _'Let Me Believe.'_

It was more like a poem, set to music, in the same vein as his biggest hit, and he was sure it would become the single which would go on to sell the new album. 

Right now he was back in Davett Gardens. The house seemed empty, divested of Nell's tawdry fripperies.  
She taken some of his things too.....ornaments, a couple of artworks.....but he was too relieved to be shot of her to care. 

Sitting. Listless. Brooding.  
Musing on his past life. 

He'd not seen hide nor hair of Goffo since the argument. He was thankful. So many distractions were poison to a creative mind such as his.  
He found it stultifying. 

Ever since school it had been this way.  
Never able to concentrate on one thing for long. He would have manic flurries of creativity, where he couldn't sleep, and barely eat. A stream of 'stuff' would pour from him, like a fountain.  
Feverish activity would follow a meltdown and a period of total inertia. 

Mercilessly bullied for being 'geeky'. Awkward, gangly and rather out of place in an establishment that valued sporting achievement. Neither sporty or particularly academic but a clever, quick-silver mind.  
Not in with the in crowd. Not a hit with the girls.  
My, how that all changed when he hit the big time! 

Dawn had been his first girlfriend, and his first experience of sex.  
Sixteen. 

Young. Foolish. Just discovering the person he was destined to become.  
Music fast becoming his outlet, his safety valve.  
The stories and poems he wrote so copiously, becoming songs. 

Years of struggle followed.  
A relentless push to get himself recognised in a cutthroat industry which took no prisoners.  
Finally, his big break. Signed to a record company. 

The release of _'Let me Believe'._ Stardom beckoned. 

Now he was thirty-three. 

Despite all the wealth, the so called friends, the women, he was lonelier than he'd been since those schooldays. When he'd gone behind the cricket pavilion at break times to hide from his antagonists. 

Not much had changed really. Sometimes he felt he'd hardly moved on at all. 

oOo

London seemed to hold nothing for him. At the end of the week he was back in Kent.  
Something drew him back there. It first happened after the rock concert.  
Now it was much stronger. Couldn't seem to keep away.  
He felt at home. Like he belonged. Comfortable and at ease, like a pair of old slippers. 

The house was quiet. 

Goffo was back, sober and contrite, but he knew it wouldn't last.  
Secretly he'd consulted his solicitor. Gone over his manager's contract. Read up on the severance clause.  
It might cost him, but it would be worth it.  
He might even be without a manager for a while. Go it alone. Wait a while before he looked for a replacement.

Sophie was around somewhere too. 

He could hear her singing to herself as she worked. The sound did things to his head.  
Made him feel strange.  
But he wasn't sure why. 

On his return he found everything in apple pie order. Correspondence arranged neatly on his desk, in the order they should be dealt with, most important first. Any phone messages catalogued and awaiting reply. The house spotless. A flower arrangement on the hall table. Fridge and cupboards stocked.  
Quiet efficiency, always. 

"Sophie!" He called, walking into the hall in search of her.  
The singing stopped abruptly and she appeared from the dining room, furniture polish in hand.  
"Oh, there you are! I wondered......." He paused, unsure how to continue for a moment.  
"Yes?" She enquired.  
"If you might be free, to join me......for something to eat.......later on?"  
She frowned.  
"Sorry. I can't. I have to get home." She replied briefly, turning away.  
"Oh! Okay.....it doesn't matter. It's just that the food you made looked good, and there's plenty. Goffo is returning to London this afternoon, so there's just me. I can't eat it all." He gave a noncommittal shrug.  
"Right! Well, I'm sorry, but mum's had a bad couple of days, so I need to get back to her. I don't like leaving her for too long." She moved away again.  
"She's not well then......your mother?" He asked.  
"No." She said shortly, and disappeared into the dining room once more. 

A deep sigh left him. 

Maybe he'd go down to the studio for a bit. Try to work. 

Leaving by the front entrance, rather than the side door he usually used, he was surprised to see what he thought was a parcel. Left on the doorstep. 

He'd heard no car on the drive, or a delivery van.

"Sophie!" He called again. She emerged a second time looking slightly annoyed.  
Crossing towards the doorway, where he waited, scratching his head thoughtfully.  
"What is it?" She huffed. 

"When did this parcel come? I haven't ordered anything."

She came to his side, and they stood together, shoulder to shoulder, staring down at the large cardboard box as if it might have appeared out of thin air.  
"I've no idea! It wasn't there an hour ago......or I'd have seen it when I went down to collect the post. Anyway, the delivery people would have rung the gate buzzer."  
At that moment a tiny sound came from the package.  
They both leapt back, as if stung. 

"What the heck......?" 

Zeno went to move forwards, but Sophie grabbed his arm to stop him.  
"Wait!" She exclaimed. " It might be dangerous.....or an animal.....or some kind of practical joke or something......it might go off in your face......"  
Another sound, this time more distinctive.  
A cry. 

Brushing her hand away, regardless of the potential danger, he went to where the package lay and knelt down.  
The box wasn't fastened, and he gingerly peeled back the cardboard flaps.  
Sophie edged closer. 

"Fucking hell!" He cried, leaning back onto his heels. "Sophie! Go and call the police!"

She peered inside along with him.  
Lying there, just being to grizzle......

.......was a tiny baby.


	6. The Inspector Calls.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reg Wexford is not over enamoured by being called to the Vedast home......

CHAPTER SIX.  
THE INSPECTOR CALLS.

The now wailing infant was pink with indignation. Arms and legs flailing.  
Sophie was on the telephone.

"Hold on a second officer." She put her hand over the receiver. "Zeno......pick it up for heavens sake! It wants a cuddle! It's probably hungry!" 

"I'm not picking it up! It's a baby!" He returned, staring dolefully down and the screaming child.  
Sophie let out a huff of exasperation. 

"Just a moment!" She said into the phone. Laying it aside, she crossed hurriedly to the cardboard box, which now stood on the hall table, deftly removed the baby, cradling it, before turning around and dumping it unceremoniously onto Zeno's right arm, crooking his elbow with her hand and pulling his fingers so that he supported it's head.  
"Like this! There you go! Now rock it about a bit, and if that doesn't work try giving it a finger to suck on, just while I finish the call!"  
Never had she seen a man look more awkward and inexperienced. He hadn't a clue.  
"Don't drop it for gods sake!" She returned to the phone and resumed her conversation. 

With the baby now held, it's head in the bend of his arm, he looked down into the little twisted face for the first time.  
So tiny, but a lusty squall.  
"It's okay little one. We'll find your mummy." He whispered quietly, as he began to pace up and down, jiggling the child slightly, as he did so.  
Thankfully it began to quieten, the tears to subside. 

Sophie finished the call.  
"Police are on their way."  
She couldn't hide a smirk, as he looked back at her pleadingly.  
"Will you take it now?"  
"You're doing fine. I'm going to look in the box." She replied. 

Zeno frowned and rolled his eyes.  
"You're bloody enjoying this aren't you!" 

At that moment the child burped loudly and was sick down the front of his silk shirt. 

"Oh! Good god!" He squealed. His face screwed up with distaste.  
"It's only baby sick! You'll live!" She laughed, mopping at his chest with a tissue.  
"Ewww! Can't you just take it for Christ's sake!" He tried to hand the child over, but Sophie was already hunting through the blankets it had been lying on.  
"There's nappies here. Wipes, and formula.......oh......and a letter.......it's addressed to you!"  
She waved a large white envelope. 

Just then the gate buzzer sounded. 

oOo

Goffo wandered through from the kitchen into the maelstrom, just as Sophie opened the door to admit Inspector Reg Wexford, and a female police constable.

"What's going on?" He looked from one to the other, in puzzlement.  
Seeing the baby, cradled in Zeno's arms, he started to laugh cruelly.  
"Oh dear.....past finally caught up with you has it?" Sophie glared at him angrily.  
"That's not exactly helpful!" She hissed.  
"Piss off Goffo !" He seethed.

Wexford appeared mildly annoyed to be renewing his acquaintance with the rockstar and his manager, both of whom he considered to be taking up good air other people could be breathing.  
"Cup of tea Inspector?" Sophie enquired, by way of diffusing the situation.

They all repaired to the living room so that the facts could be ascertained.  
The little one, now sleeping peacefully, still held rather awkwardly in Zeno's arms.  
Moments later Sophie returned with the tray.  
"Show the Inspector the letter Sophie." He said. "I would, but my hands are a bit full!"  
"Shall I take it?" She asked, holding out her hands. "Christ! I thought you'd never ask!" He breathed and gratefully handed the child over, examining the stain on the front of his shirt with a grimace.  
"Goffo. Get the Inspector the CCTV discs. Maybe we can see who left it, and when." He poured himself a cup of tea and curled into a chair, knees up, as he always did. 

"Well?" He began. "Question me! This is quite a deja-vu moment!"  
"I don't think you should be so flippant Mr Vedast. This is a child, it's a living breathing thing, and apparently it's been abandoned. It's a very serious matter. Oh! But I forgot, you don't take much seriously do you? Life is all one big joke to you." The Inspector remarked, pointedly, as he sipped his tea.  
Zeno, suitably admonished, gave an injured shrug. 

Wexford opened the envelope scanned the letter briefly, then read aloud.....

 _"Dear Zeno,_

_You won't remember me, we met at an after party in Manchester last year._  
_The child is yours. Her name is Esther. She was born on the 15th._

 _I can't give her the things in life she should have. So I'm leaving her with you._  
_Please take good care of her._

 _Be a father._  
_Tell her she was loved by me, but I couldn't keep her._

_Tell her I'm sorry. "_

Sophie put a hand over her face, and tried to stifle tears. She looked at Zeno with a mixture of disgust and pity.  
"What must it have cost that girl, to leave her baby like that?" She whispered. "She must have been alone and desperate." 

"This is bollocks!" Zeno exploded, suddenly jumping up and spilling his tea." There's no way that kid is mine! No fucking way!"  
"Then why would the mother leave it here like that? With you? She must have been sure?" She retorted.  
Wexford coughed politely.  
"We'll contact Social Services, take the baby to the Hospital and get it checked over, then it'll go to Raynes House, until such time as we know for sure. You'll have to come to our lab, Mr Vedast.  
They'll take a cheek swab, from you and from the baby, for DNA, to establish paternity. We'll go from there."  
He rose, and directed the police woman to take the infant.  
"May I use the phone?" He asked, turning to Sophie. "We'll do our best to trace the mother, it may be that the baby was born without medical help, and she may need treatment......the 15th is only just over a week ago, so she needs to be found." 

Once the appropriate phone calls were made, Wexford resumed his seat. Taking out a note pad and pencil, the old fashioned way.  
"So!" He began. "You'd better tell me everything you can remember about Manchester!"  
Zeno turned to Sophie.  
"Go get Goffo.......he'll know as much as me!" He barked.  
"Get him yourself!" She replied angrily, and left the room hastily. 

oOo

The last of the cars left, heading for the laboratory. Sophie watched Zeno climb into the back seat. As he did so, he glanced up at her, his face sorrowful. But she turned away and went back into the house. 

If the press got wind of this they'd have a field day she mused. 

Once at the lab, a cheek swab was taken, and Zeno was left alone, he could hear the child crying in the next room. 

Shit! What a bloody mess. 

So, he was a Dad now. Just like that.  
Christ. 

Who the hell was this woman in Manchester? Could be one of about a dozen. They'd played several dates there. Several parties afterwards.  
He didn't know or didn't ask their names. 

What did he know about bringing up a child? He was still a child himself in many ways.  
A thousand thoughts were running through his head.  
He'd have to engage a Nanny. How could he tour with a kid in tow? 

Things were going to have to change.  
There would be a little person to consider, apart from himself.  
How did he even feel about that?  
Buggered if he knew. 

Rising, he left the clinical room, and went next door.  
The attendant had gone off to fetch a bottle. Walking over to the cot side, he touched the tiny hand with his index finger. Immediately the little one latched on.  
Reaching in, he picked her up carefully, cradling her as Sophie had shown him.  
"Looks like it's gonna be you and me then!" He said quietly.  
The technician returned with a bottle of formula.  
"Can I ?" He asked, holding out his hand to take it.  
"Well.......?" The woman demurred.  
"I'm her father for fucks sake! I've gotta get used to the idea."  
The attendant relinquished the bottle and Zeno sat down, pushing the teat into the open pink mouth.  
The infant sucked noisily.  
"There we go! Little Esther! That's what you needed wasn't it?"  
The technician looked on, but Zeno took no notice, watching as the little fist opened and closed, and the chin puckered as his daughter fed hungrily. 

oOo

"It'll be 72 hours until the results come back." The Inspector was brisk.  
"72 hours? What'll happen to her in the meantime?" He asked, looking down at the blissfully sleeping girl.  
"She'll be taken to Raynes House. Looked after there." He replied.

"Raynes House? That's a children's home though, right?" 

"Yes, Mr Vedast. She'll be well taken care of." 

"But......" Frustration flashed across his brow.

"But what?" Wexford was still short with the rockstar, his opinion of him hadn't improved. 

"Can't I take her home? I mean......a children's home? Christ......I was at school with kids from Raynes House......they were like a breed apart. Everyone despised them.......I always remember it......waifs.......like they came from the Workhouse.......it was horrible." 

"We've moved on a bit from that Mr Ved........Zeno." The Inspector said, with more kindness than perhaps he felt. "Once we know for sure, you'll be allowed to have her. I hope to God you take proper care of her." 

Zeno turned on him angrily.

"And you think I wouldn't? Is that it? You think I'd mess it up? You think I'd mess her up? Don't think much of me at all do you? Inspector!" 

"Not really, no! You messed up spectacularly with Dawn Stoner. Didn't you? She'd still be alive if it wasn't for you and your cruel trick. You didn't actually kill her yourself, but you sent her to her death.....and you didn't give it a second thought......you or your girlfriend! So forgive me for not being over confident in your parenting abilities! Now if you'll excuse me, I've work to do, trying to trace the mother. You'll have to make your own way home, I don't have a patrol car available, I'm afraid." 

By the time Zeno arrived home, Sophie was gone. Goffo too. 

He made his way down to the studio. Picked up his guitar. Strummed a few chords.  
Then with a roar of furious indignation he smashed the instrument into pieces.


	7. Endings and Beginnings.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goffo takes his revenge.....

CHAPTER SEVEN.  
ENDINGS AND BEGINNINGS.

Sophie arrived for work in the morning in time to hear the tail end of a blazing row. 

"........all the years I've been with you! And you're just casting me aside. Like a toy you've grown tired of." 

It was Goffo. 

"You've seen this coming Goffo. Don't make out it's all a surprise. It's been on the cards ever since the business with Dawn. And I'm not casting you aside. You'll be well paid, and acknowledged for what you've done." Zeno was pacing up and down rapidly, making extravagant hand gestures.  
"But I'm going to need to make some changes. My whole bloody life is going to change.  
And you're not a part of that. I can't have you in the house pissed as a fart with a young kiddy running about. The guys are going to have to make some changes too. I'm not having any drugs and shit either. If they can't manage that, then I'll go solo. Start afresh. The songs and the music are mine anyway. Most of the hard work is mine. I'll manage without them if I have to."

"You're mad! Completely bonkers! You won't survive two seconds without me. You need me, Zeno. The guys too." Godfrey raised his voice, poking a finger into Zeno's chest.

He backed away, and continued.

"No, Goffo, I don't need you. Not anymore. I'll talk to the guys. Jim and Nige will be okay I'm sure, and hopefully I can talk Barry round.....if not, I can replace him myself. I can play bass well enough, and I'll hire a session musician for the tour if I can't find a permanent replacement. Somehow I'll make it work. I have to. I'll go right back to where I started, just me and a song and a tune. I need you to leave. Get your stuff together. I have to go out. When I return we'll talk again. I'll have my solicitor draw you up a severance document. You'll be well looked after. But it ends here. I'm sorry but that's the way it is." 

oOo

Not long afterwards Sophie saw him roar away down the driveway. Hair flying, shades on. Long coat. Like some modern Doc Holliday.  
She crept downstairs.  
Godfrey Tate was slamming about. Muttering to himself. She peeped into the living room.  
He turned as she entered, half way through stuffing clothes into a suitcase. 

"I suppose you knew about this?" He spat.  
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." She countered. "I knew nothing whatever."  
"He's being a fool. You should tell him. He'll listen to you......because he fancies your bony little arse." He replied, with malice.  
"There's nothing whatever between us." She retorted. "I'm not interested in him, not like that anyway. I've enough problems of my own. I'm his housekeeper. That's it. Nothing more."  
"Well, I wish you the very best of luck Darling! But mark my words, he'll break a little innocent like you. Snap you like a twig. That's what he always does. It'll end in tears......yours!"  
He hauled the suitcase from the sofa and wheeled it out to his waiting car, Sophie followed him to the porch.  
Turning, he threw his bunch of keys.  
Sophie caught them in one hand.  
"Tell him I'll be back tomorrow for the rest of my stuff. I can't take it all now. Oh, and tell him I said fuck him!" He shot, as he jumped into the motor.  
"You can tell him yourself tomorrow." She responded. "I'm not acting as your go between." 

oOo

It was half and hour after Goffo left that Zeno returned. He had a carrier bag of baby goods in his hand.  
When he came into the kitchen she was just finishing depositing the meals she'd made into the freezer.  
"Ah, here you are." He said, dropping his car keys on the counter. "I'm going out again in a mo, I wondered if you'd come with me?"  
"Where are you going?" She enquired, intrigued.  
"Raynes House." He replied. "They said I could visit. I've got to get myself used to a baby. I don't know the first thing about babies. I need to learn. So I guess I'd just like the support if you could come." 

Sophie scanned his face intently. He seemed genuine. In fact he seemed a little lost. Shell shocked. His expression pained and almost scared.  
She made the decision.  
"Alright, I'll come with you." 

They left together almost straight away. Zeno drove like a maniac. Sophie glared at him from the passenger seat.  
"Slow down for Gods sake. You'll get us both killed!" She cried.  
"I live dangerously." He laughed.  
"Clearly! Which is why you have a child abandoned on your doorstep!" She chided. "Now bloody slow down, or you can let me out and I'll walk!"  
Once at Raynes House. They were shown into the nursery.  
There were other babies there, and a cacophony of howling.  
Little Esther, however was sleeping through it all. 

Seeing this rather odd eccentric man standing in the light from the window, the small body cradled against him, staring out across the grounds, was not something she thought she'd ever see.  
Somehow he looked suddenly so much younger, like he was a boy himself, abruptly thrown together with this tiny person, not really sure what had hit him, and not knowing quite what else to do but cleave to her. 

It was a strange thing. 

An odd connection. Yet it was profound. There'd been a change in him. His supreme confidence seemed dented, suddenly unsure, doubting himself and everything he was. 

Sophie had to admit to herself, that it was a surprise. 

They stayed an hour or so. Zeno fed her, settled her, gave the little brow a kiss.  
Then they left. 

In the car on the way back to the house, he was silent. 

oOo

Sophie could not find him the next morning. Zeno's bed unslept in. The house empty and quiet.  
Sounds were coming from inside the studio.  
He'd been awake all night, composing.  
Coffee and adrenaline. 

She wandered down to find him, pausing to fetch the newspapers from the box by the gate.  
As she crossed the lawn, she idly perused the headlines. 

_"ROCKSTAR ZENO HAS LOVECHILD!"_

_"BABY ABANDONED ON POP STAR'S DOORSTEP."_

_"OH NO! ZENO!"_

Oh, good god!  
She broke into a run. 

Breathless, she crashed unannounced into his inner sanctum.  
"ZENO! Look!" She managed to blurt out.

He took the papers from her in stunned silence. Scanning them rapidly.  
"Goffo!" He hissed. 

When they left an hour later to go back to Raynes House the gates were besieged with press.  
Flash bulbs going off. Unable to drive through, as the car was surrounded, some running down the road after them.  
Cameras thrust right into their faces.  
People shouting.  
Zeno kept driving, but Sophie was like a rabbit in the headlights.  
" _Are you the mother?"_  
_"You his girlfriend love?"_  
_"Give us the story Zeno!"_  
_"Where's the kid now?"_

Two cars set off in pursuit. But Zeno lost them easily.  
"Predatory bastards!" He said through gritted teeth.

"They'll find her, they'll talk their way in if Raynes staff aren't careful. They're clever. Her picture'll be on the front page next! Fucking Goffo. I'll kill him." 

Sophie was gobsmacked.  
"How on earth do you cope with all this? How can you even live, when it's like this? It's horrible!" She whispered.  
"Par for the course love. The grounds will be crawling with them. They'll try to get in. Someone will try to contact you.....and they'll be very smarmy and very believable and very clever. But you mustn't trust anyone, or tell them anything okay? They'll find your address, turn up at your house, pose as anything to get inside. I know every trick in the book, every ruse!"  
"Oh my god! Zeno.....my mum! If they go to mine.....she won't know.....she's ill......she'll fall for it....fall for anything, she's sweet and gullible. They'll find out I work for you....they'll get to her!  
Oh god!" She looked at him pleadingly.  
"Don't worry, I'll take you there first, drop you off. I'll go Raynes afterwards. By the back roads.  
Stay at home, with your mum. I'll send a car for you in the morning, I'd say not to come to the house tomorrow.......but......well......." He paused.  
"Well what?" She asked.  
"The result is due tomorrow......the paternity thing. And I'd just like someone else there.....if you don't mind?" He turned to look at her, and his eyes said what his mouth couldn't.  
"Okay. I'll see you in the morning. Good luck at Raynes. I hope they're not there waiting for you, as you've had to make a detour." She climbed out of the car, as he drew up outside her home. There was no one about.  
"If they are I'll tell them to piss off." 

He smiled, and slamming the car into gear, he roared away.


	8. Result.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeno is due a phone call from the lab. But first he has something to tell his mother......

CHAPTER EIGHT.  
RESULT.

It was later in the morning when Inspector Wexford arrived to ask Zeno more questions about potential mothers for the baby.  
The investigation was going nowhere and there was little hope, in his opinion, of ever finding her, unless she came forward of her own free will. Reg thought that, unlikely.  
Zeno asked for Sophie to be present for some reason, she wasn't sure why, it was as if he needed the reassurance, or back up, or simply moral support, in the absence of Goffo. 

It pained Sophie to hear him speak so matter of factly of his partying exploits after concerts.

"You come off stage.......after a gig.......you're on a massive high. An adrenaline rush. I'm not talking fireworks here, I'm talking nuclear. Why do you think so many people in my profession take drugs Inspector? They need help.......you can't replicate that rush any other way. It's like a brain storm, and when you're not experiencing it, you want it......badly. The adoration, the power, the sheer awesomeness of having thousands of people hanging on your every note. How can I tell you what that's like?"  
"I can understand that I suppose." Wexford was thoughtful.  
"People like me become notorious! Alcohol, Coke, Heroin.......I'm surrounded by it, constantly. When you're not being hit by that rush, when the gig is over, when you're at home, alone and still buzzing.....that's when you want a hit yourself, you're wired, you need to come down.....but you can't.......most resort to downers......or sleeping pills."  
"And yet you don't indulge?" He asked.  
"Nope. Never have. Never wanted to. But I do come off stage with a massive need for something!"  
He winked expressively, and glanced briefly at Sophie, who returned a hard stare.  
"Seriously Inspector, I've racked my brains. We played six nights in Manchester. It could be any of a dozen girls.....and I'm not blowing my own trumpet here.....I'm just being honest. The girls wait by the stage door. Goffo chooses them, invites them to the party. That's it. He makes sure they get home afterwards. What can I say? I can't make it sound less sordid than it is, but it's the truth."  
"I see......and you assume these girls are clean, and on the pill, do you?" Wexford asked, trying to keep the repugnance from his tone.  
Zeno scoffed.  
"Of course not! You really have the lowest possible opinion of me, don't you? No! I don't assume that. I don't assume anything. I never have sex with any woman without a condom. Ever! I don't care what they tell me. They'll tell you what they think you want to hear. People tell lies! Lies are printed about me almost daily. If there is no story, then they make it up. But I guess there must have been a faulty one....or something......I guess it happens."  
He stood up, and crossed to the window.  
"Also I don't go with them if they're underage......and trust me......many have tried! I'm not into kiddies or even older teenagers Inspector! I can see the headline now.........'he took advantage of her, she was only fifteen'.....but when they're all dolled up, high heels, makeup......when they fling themselves at you.....you've no idea how old they might be. I go for older women mostly, avoid the teeny boppers. You're some kind of fantasy for these kids.....they put your picture on their wall, they cuddle their pillow and pretend it's you, then they want the real thing.......or they think they do......"  
"How do you police that then?" Wexford enquired tartly.  
"No one gets in to the party without ID. Goffo is good.....he's seen all the tricks, all the fakes.....heard all the stories.......he knows."

"Where is Mr Tate now?" 

"Hell if I know! Drunk somewhere I expect. We've gone our separate ways. He came earlier and collected the rest of his stuff. As from today I have no one. It's official. Billy fucking no mates." 

Wexford frowned at the curse but made no comment. 

"Nothing from your CCTV I'm afraid." He said, reaching into his pocket and handing over the discs.  
"Just a girl with a hoodie over her head. Face not visible. She was careful. We have almost nothing to go on."  
Zeno shook his head and sighed.  
"Poor little cow." He said.  
"What's this Zeno? Remorse? Pity? You must be careful.....you're in danger of developing a conscience in your old age!"  
"Yeah, well. I don't expect you to feel anything for me. Nothing but contempt anyway. But I do feel stuff you know. I do. But it gets beaten out of you. Fame does that. You get cynical, people all want to take, there's only so many pieces you can break yourself into. Now if there's nothing else Inspector. You know where to find me. I'll be here. I'm not going back to London, there's nothing there for me at the moment, everything I want is here." He glanced at Sophie again, but she didn't look back. "Later I need to go to my mother's, I want to speak to her. I need to get back before the lab rings me."  
"You should hear from the clinic later this afternoon. Then we can see what Social Services say about getting little Esther back to you. It may take a while, she needs to be registered and there'll be paperwork to go over, but the Social Worker assigned to her will contact you about that. In the meantime we'll continue to search for the mother. She may have come to Kings Markham by bus or by train, at the moment we are going through footage from the bus station as well as the railway. No luck as yet though. I can't think she'd have come by car, and she must have crossed your grounds by way of the perimeter fence, she certainly didn't march straight up the driveway." Wexford rose to leave, Sophie showed him out. 

oOo

"Have you seen the papers mum?" Zeno sat down in the cosy cottage lounge at his mother's house.  
"No darling. Not since yesterday." She poured tea and handed him a biscuit.  
"Nor seen the telly?" He nibbled on the hobnob.  
"Thursday is my canasta night, and I tape my programmes to watch tonight." She replied with a smile.  
"You don't know the news then. I've something to tell you mum." He set his cup down and took her hand.  
"The thing is......I've got myself into a bit of trouble....." He dropped his head in shame.  
"What is it Harry? You're not ill are you?"  
He smiled.  
"No mum, nothing like that. I've become a Dad. I have a little girl, mum. Her name is Esther. And she's beautiful."  
"Oh Harry! What have you done? You're not even married, I didn't even know you had a girlfriend."  
"I haven't got a girlfriend! There's no one. And no one would look at me. Not genuinely anyway. They all want Zeno, mum. Not me. Just Zeno." He put his head into his hands.  
"Will you help me with her please mum? I need someone to look after her. I can't take care of a baby......not alone anyway." He looked at her pleadingly.  
She smiled fondly at her son.  
"Oh Harry! This is typical you......trying to get others to mop up your mistakes. Well, this is one mistake you are going to have to deal with yourself, I'm afraid. I can't look after your baby dear. I'm too old, I haven't the patience. You say you can't take care of her.....but you were big enough and ugly enough to conceive her, so you're big enough to take the responsibility. It's yours, and you have to face it. I'll be pleased to be a grandma, but I'm not your hired nanny. You'll have to employ someone to help you, when you're working, and you'll have to make time for her. It's entirely up to you. You're going to have to grow up........be a man, and be a father."

oOo

It was four in the afternoon when the phone rang at Zeno's residence.  
Sophie had watched him since he returned from his mother's. He was like a cat on hot bricks. Unable to sit, or settle. Wandering the rooms like a lost sheep. She made him a drink and took it into his study, where he now languished, his long legs up on the desk, feet crossed. Drumming the arm rest agitatedly with his fingers.  
He jumped visibly when the telephone rang.  
Sophie answered, as Zeno came through into the hall.  
His face ashen.  
She passed him the receiver and made to walk away, but he clutched her arm and stayed her, with a slight shake of the head.  
She could only hear his side of the conversation.

_Hello Doctor. Yes, I am. Thank you._  
_Right._  
_Okay._  
_Are you sure?_  
_Really? How sure?_  
_98.5%._  
_Right._  
_What happens now?_

Is voice began to tremble, and his grip on Sophie's arm tightened. 

_But where does that leave me?_  
_Right._  
_I see._  
_What do I do? I don't know what to do._  
_Okay._  
_I'll jot down the number._  
_Sophie? Pen!_

She handed him a biro and a notepad.  
He scribbled rapidly. 

_I've got it._  
_Yes. I'll call them. Thank you Doctor._  
_Goodbye._

He replaced the receiver. Almost in slow motion. He appeared dazed. Confused. Sophie thought he looked as if he might vomit. 

"Zeno? What is it? What's wrong? Tell me." She turned him to face her, looking up into his swimming eyes. 

"She's not mine. Couldn't possibly be. Not my child. It's all a lie." He stammered. 

He loosened his grip, and moved away, heading for the door, stumbling, half walking, half running across the lawn towards his studio.  
Sophie called after him.  
"ZENO! Wait!" 

But he took no notice.  
Moments later she heard loud guitar feedback coming from inside.


	9. Pressure Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the result floors Zeno. Sophie has problems of her own....

CHAPTER NINE.   
PRESSURE POINT.

Sophie crossed the lawn after him.  
Banged on the door.

"Zeno! Open the door." There was no reply and the guitar continued, squealing and screeching noisily. 

"Zeno! For Gods sake! It's not necessarily a lie. She might have genuinely thought you were the father. She obviously had more than one partner. You can't possibly know that it was a deliberate attempt to deceive!" 

"Go away Sophie. Let me be." Came his voice, over the din. 

"This is ridiculous! You can't just shut it out. She went to a hell of a lot of trouble if it she knew it was someone else's child. Why not leave it with them? It doesn't make any sense." She had her mouth to the keyhole.

"Bugger off Sophie. You really are so fucking naive! So bloody innocent! Of course she knew what she was doing. Foisting some bloke's kid onto me.....making out its mine, so I pay! Both in money and in mind. She probably thought she could touch me for more money at a later date. Come crawling out of the woodwork, with some threat or other if I didn't cough up! That's how it works pet! That's what it is!" 

"Zeno! Please open the door. Let's talk about this. Please!" 

The latch clicked. Door swung open.

She walked inside.   
He slumped onto the sofa, pulling his favourite Stratocaster over his lap.

"Zeno, think about it! She'd know you'd have the baby tested! She'd know that. She must have been certain in her own mind that the little one was yours and that the test would prove it. That you would do the right thing. She must have given it some thought. Else why risk it? She could have abandoned that child anywhere. But she bought it to you, because she was convinced it was yours. It must be true." 

"I doubt she was that bright!" He retorted. 

"What happens now? Did the Doctor say? What happens to little Esther?" Sophie perched on a chair opposite him. 

"What happens now is not my concern. OKAY!" He yelled. "It's nothing to do with me!" 

Sophie was taken aback. 

"But you cared." She said softly. "I could tell. You did care. You were quite prepared to take her, step up to the plate. I know you were." 

"Yeah. Well. It's over. And now I can bloody well get back to normal, it's nothing to me now what happens to her." 

Sophie stood up.

"YOU'RE A LIAR!" She cried. "I saw your face when you were told. I stood there and watched you.   
You were upset. I could see it. And now you're faced with the truth, you're shutting it out and throwing your toys out of the pram. Instead of doing something and finding out what happens next, you're burying your head in the sand." 

"Get out of here Sophie! Go home. Don't come back! I don't need you as my conscience, on my bloody shoulder. I don't need any of you. You, Goffo, Nell.......Just leave me alone, okay! Just fuck the hell off." He piloted her to the door, opening it and forcing her outside. 

"Just leave me be. I'm ZENO! Nothing touches me!" 

She turned to him then sadly. 

"You're not though, are you? Not really. You're just Harry. And deep down you're no different from the rest of us!" 

oOo

For the next three days she barely saw him.   
Each morning, she arrived as normal, despite his telling her not to return. His bed was unused. Food untouched. 

He was shut inside the studio, the door bolted, only emerging for a shower.   
Several times she tried to talk to him, but he neither opened the door nor answered back.   
Eventually she had no choice but to give up. 

Zeno Vedast did not sleep. 

Feverishly he composed, scribbling on endless scraps of paper. Trying out riffs on his guitar.   
Testing a chord or two on the piano.   
Sitting at the bank of levers and knobs that were the mixing unit. Headphones on. Moving the sliders up and down, adding background, muting beat, phasing in timpani, experimenting with a snare sound.   
He could not rest. Could not stop.   
Pouring out of him in a frenzy of manic creativity. 

He was never hungry. Mind buzzing.   
There was a melody in his mind that he couldn't shake, he had to get it down. It incorporated a mandolin, which he'd bought some time ago in an old music shop whilst on tour. He'd been itching to use it, and this was his opportunity.   
Ignoring exhaustion, he worked on. 

Phone calls and correspondence piled up. Sophie guessed that, normally, Goffo would have dealt with it all.   
She could do nothing other than field the calls, saying Zeno was working and she couldn't disturb him.   
His agent. His accountant. The other band members. Even the Social Worker from Raynes.   
She didn't know what to say to any of them.   
None of them would speak to her or give her a message. 

Right now she did not have the energy to deal with petulant pop stars. 

Her mother's condition had deteriorated somewhat in the preceding weeks.   
She was struggling to provide adequate care for her. Leaving her alone whilst she worked was becoming increasingly difficult. Popping home during her lunch break.   
Less and less able to help herself, Sophie was washing her, cooking for her, sometimes even feeding her, keeping her comfortable. She was in a great deal of pain sometimes, Sophie was often up in the night. 

The strain was becoming too much. 

She needed to talk to Zeno. Explain the situation, tell him she needed time away from the job. 

oOo

By the end of the week Sophie was exhausted.   
Dragging herself along from one hour to the next. Too tired and emotional to even think.  
Arriving at the house, she was surprised to find Zeno standing in the kitchen, in his dressing gown.   
Busily making a pot of coffee. 

"Good god! Have you surfaced at last?" She snapped.   
"Don't start! Jimminy!" He returned, acidly.  
"While you've been playing hermit, I've been holding your life at bay! I'm not your secretary, and they won't talk to me anyway. I've just had to leave it all on your desk. All your letters are there too, and the Social Worker from Raynes wanted to discuss something with you." Her fuse was short. 

"I've dealt with it. All of it. And I've spoken to the woman from Raynes. Did it earlier." He returned, sipping the coffee.  
"What have you been doing in there anyway? Other than wallowing in self-pity?" She retorted, with malice.  
"Leave it Sophie! I've written the whole album, pretty much. Tracks are down and dusted. Best bloody stuff I've ever written.   
I've probably got enough material for another one. But now I need some peace and quiet, and to catch up on my sleep."

To his alarm, she began to laugh, almost hysterically. 

"You're an absolute classic, you know that? You shut yourself away for almost a week, leaving everyone to mop up the shit, then you emerge and announce you're taking to your bed! Unbelievable!" 

Zeno gave a nonchalant shrug. 

"Shit happens. I had a great deal of crap inside, that needed to come out. What's your problem anyway?" 

"My problem? MY problem? You really don't have a bloody clue do you? What real life is like? You almost had a chance with that child......but you don't even care about that anymore, it's not your problem, so you just go back to how things were before, pretend none of it happened. Just a nasty inconvenience. GOD!" 

He regarded her with an air of puzzlement, his expressive eyebrows dancing, as is eyes scanned her face. 

"Sophie, listen......I have no rights to the child whatever. I've asked. None. She's another man's baby, not mine. They've still no clue who the mother is. She'll probably be put up for adoption......and before you start judging again....... Jimminy......I asked about that too........I'm not even in the running. Single....dodgy lifestyle......issues......not Daddy material! Although they would cheerfully have handed her over had she proved to be mine! Funny that, isn't it?   
What I HAVE done, which is about all they'll let me do, is put money in a trust fund for her, for when she's older. It'll be passed to her adoptive parents.....when they find someone.....for University.....or whatever......and that's about all I can do. Okay? So keep your fucking opinions to yourself!" 

He slammed his cup down, the contents shooting up and out of it, leaving a seeping brown puddle on the counter.   
Her eyes widened, first in surprise, and then remorse. Tears sprang there, trickling down her cheek.   
As he watched, her face crumpled, mouth twitching at the corners. A wave of crying burst from her, in an explosive squeak, and her shoulders began to shake, hand clamped over her mouth as if trying to hold it in. 

"Christ! Sophie! There's no need to.......I didn't mean......" He moved towards her, his arms outstretched but she backed away from him.   
"Please?" He said quietly.  
Shaking her head, trembling, she fell against him, sobbing. 

"What is it? What the hell has happened? Tell me!" His hand was stroking her hair, her face pressed against the luxurious fabric of the silk robe he was wearing.   
He smelled of shower gel, and shampoo, his hair still damp, combed back from his forehead.   
It was a while before she could articulate.   
"I'm sorry! What I said. It was wrong of me, I thought badly of you........like everyone else, I just assumed!   
I can't do it any more Zeno, I can't. Oh god, but I need to. I need to work, I need the money.....but my mum's so poorly......I can't do it......I can't do both."   
She seemed to buckle then, sinking down, and he swept her up, carrying her to the living room where he lay her gently on the couch.   
Bending over her, his hand against her forehead.   
"I'm so tired. So tired." She whispered, letting her eyes fall shut, under the touch of his fingers.


	10. Split Personality.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeno does a thing........

CHAPTER TEN.  
SPLIT PERSONALITY.

 

She woke, with a start, unsure of where she was for several seconds.   
Lying on the couch still. A blanket had been placed over her.   
Zeno, sitting across from her, watching, like a mother hen might watch it's brood.   
His legs drawn up, hugging his knees, as he always did. Dressed now, in his green shirt, jeans. No shoes or socks. 

"Tea?" He asked softly, unfurling himself and sitting forwards.   
"How long have I been here?" She sat up quickly, as if caught somewhere she shouldn't be.   
"A couple of hours. It's nearly lunchtime. Drink your tea, I'll run you home." He passed the cup and saucer to her.   
She took it in a trembling hand.   
"How long have you been struggling to do this? Your job, and caring for your mum?" He asked gently.   
"Eight months." She sipped and closed her eyes gratefully.   
"Eight months! And you never said a word. Why?" He steepled his fingers in front of his face and regarded her thoughtfully.   
"Because it's none of your business! And why would you want to know about my home life. You're Zeno, you're a mega star.....you've got a hectic schedule and a lifestyle to go with it! I'm just a housekeeper." She replied, wearily.   
Zeno ignored the implication.   
"What's wrong with her? Can you tell me that?" He asked.  
"Pancreatic cancer. She hasn't got that long. She's deteriorated over the last month or so. She needs more and more care, and there aren't enough hours in the........."   
Her voice was cut off with a choking sob.   
Zeno was up and kneeling beside her in an instant, his large hands on her shoulders, squeezing slightly.   
"Hey! It's okay. It's bad, I know it's bad, but I could help........maybe there's a hospice......or Respite care.......or a nurse could come in........to help out......something?"   
"I can't......we can't.....afford anything like that........she wants to be in her own home......I don't blame her......but it's hard, running backwards and forwards, coming here, trying to pop home......"  
She raised her eyes slowly, looked into his green ones, his face was earnest, kindly, soft, and he was the most serious she'd ever seen him.   
"Why don't you ditch the bike? Use your car, that would be easier and quicker......" He observed.  
"Zeno, I don't have a car, we're not well off......I passed my test, but I couldn't afford to run a car if I had one." She brushed the tears away from her eyelashes with a knuckle.   
"Where's your dad? Can't he help?" He reached forwards, moving a strand of hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear.   
"He buggered off when I was a baby. Never saw him again. Mum divorced him years ago." She murmured.   
"Hmmpph! Mine too!" He smiled. "Men, eh? All bastards!"   
She gave a wan smile. 

"Come on!" He stood up then, and held out a hand to her. "I'm going to take you home. I want to meet your mum!"   
"What? No! Why?" She cried, startled.   
"Because I'd like to, if you don't mind?"   
Sophie nodded reluctantly.   
"Okay......I guess!" She replied. 

oOo

It was the strangest meeting ever. 

Zeno, bending his head slightly to avoid the beams in the low ceiling, entered the main reception room, which had been converted into a bedroom as well as a sitting room for Sophie's mother.  
She was in bed, propped up on pillows, the television playing quietly.

"Mum, this is Zeno. He wanted to meet you." She began, gesturing for her employer to sit.   
"I'll go and put the kettle on." She moved though to the kitchen, out of earshot. 

"Hello, Harry." The invalid said, with a faint and brittle voice. "I've heard an awful lot about you, almost none of it good." 

When Sophie returned the two were speaking together in low tones, her mother looked up, almost guiltily.   
"Sophie love, pop down to the village would you? We've run out of squash, and it's all I've been fancying to drink today."   
Her daughter looked unsure, looking from her mother to Zeno, and back again.  
"It's okay! Harry will be here, and we can have a little chat!" She smiled.  
Sophie couldn't possibly think what the two would find to chat so amiably about, but she acquiesced. Taking her keys, and bag, she left them to it.   
On her return, she found them still deep in conversation.   
"Everything alright?" She asked. Her mother looked tearful.   
Zeno stood, and turned.  
"I'll be going......don't come up to the house tomorrow. I'm popping up to London, I've got a few meetings, I'll stay at Davett Gardens. Come back the day after. Try to get some rest.....yeah?"   
He dropped a quick peck on her cheek, and was down the path and into his car, almost before she could register it. Her hand moving unconsciously to the place where his lips had touched. 

oOo

Turning onto the gravel path, on her cycle, Sophie was surprised to see three cars standing in the driveway.   
Two she recognised as Jim and Nige's. The other was brand new. 

Entering, she could hear chatter and music.   
Barry's voice too, laughing.   
The band......together again. 

Presently they all wandered down to the studio, and Zeno emerged from his study, where he'd been making a private phone call. 

"Ah! Sophie! There you are! How's your mum?" He seemed pleased to see her.  
In fact he seemed happy. Ridiculously happy.   
"She had a better night thank you. The band are here I see!"   
He clapped his hands together almost gleefully.   
"Yep! Pre-recording meeting, I've been playing them the new stuff. We're going to be pretty busy soon.....gotta get it done......get it out there......then there's another tour to organise. And I'm going to need a new manager!"   
"I'm pleased for you." She smiled, genuinely.  
"AND!" He gestured expansively. "I have something for you!" 

Sophie stopped in her tracks.

"For me? What?" She seemed confused.  
"Come with me!" He cried, excitement written all over his face, eager and boyish as it was.   
"Come on.....hurry!" He grabbed her hand, and began to drag her towards the front door.   
He led her outside, stood in the porch, and waved his hand. Looking towards her, then out at the garden, then back at her again, eyebrows raised expectantly.  
Sophie was even more nonplussed.  
"What?" She queried.   
"Ta da!!!" He squeaked, and capered down the steps, onto the drive, pulling her alongside him, before stopping beside the new car.   
Sophie looked at him in amazement, he waggled his eyebrows again and gave an impish grin.   
"Well? Are you pleased?" He said, barely able to contain his childish delight.  
"You bought a car?" She said, slowly......" For me?"   
"YES! YES!" He giggled, "Get in it.....go for a spin!" 

"Zeno......who buys someone a car? Just like that!" She cried. 

"Me! I do! Don't you like it! Now you don't have to use your bike!" He opened the driver's door.   
"But........why? Why would you do that?" She said, stepping back.   
"Why not? It's a present. From me to you! I thought you'd like it. Look at it as a gift to a friend!" His face began to fall slightly. 

"Zeno. You can't just buy people.......it doesn't work like that. You can't buy friendship."   
"I'm not trying to........" He began, crestfallen.  
"What did you think?" She interrupted, explosively. "That I'd fall at your feet? Most men would buy women a bunch of flowers.....Zeno Vedast buys them cars! I don't want it Zeno! I don't want expensive presents, I don't want anything......don't you get it? NELL is the person for whom you'd buy a car!"  
Zeno thought he'd never seen her so angry.   
"Friendship is freely given........not bought." She ranted. "It's an understanding, a connection......it's a bond! It's not about material goods. Don't you see that? I don't care who you are......I don't care how much money you have.......I'm not interested in Zeno........he only exists as a mask......an act. He's not real and he's not very nice! Please send it back.....and please don't buy me anything again. I told you before.....I don't want you to impress me. It's an insult. I'm sorry but there it is." 

She turned on her heel and walked back into the house, leaving him standing by himself, staring after her.   
By the time he caught up with her, she was in the kitchen, furiously wiping the surfaces, putting away the breakfast things the band had left for her to clear up. Busying herself industriously. 

"Zeno is all I know how to be!" He said, continuing the conversation where it left off. 

"Rubbish!" She snapped. "You can be Zeno all you want.....and I'll never like him. I'll tell you who I like! I like Harry. The man who visits Dawn's gran. The guy who goes and spends time with his mum, and who is prepared to take on an abandoned baby, love it and make the best of it. The person who writes beautiful songs.......Zeno is just someone you hide behind! Zeno is selfish and self indulgent, Zeno is childish and arrogant, Zeno fucks practically anything with a pulse.......Zeno turns my bloody stomach!"

He glared at her angrily, eyes blazing, then spat back, his voice raised.   
"Yeah? Well the two go together, toots.....you don't get one without the other!"

"I'll take neither then!" She said with finality, and walked away.


	11. Denouement.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie is giving Zeno a wide berth.......but makes a new and unexpected friend.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.  
DENOUEMENT. 

The weeks that followed were a blur to Sophie. She and her employer gave each other a wide berth.  
Besides, she had no time to think about him! 

Looking back the days melded into one long aching pain. Which never ended and for which there was no cure.  
A wonderful nurse was hired.  
She turned up at the end of that first week, after her big row with Zeno over the car. 

Her mother seemed to be expecting the new arrival. Was primed for it. 

When Sophie tackled her about the subject, and asked how they were possibly affording it, she was nothing short of evasive. 

Said it was all taken care of and she wasn't to worry. 

There had been a small nest-egg, she said, saved for just such an eventuality.  
Now was the time. 

It was too much to expect her daughter to nurse her all day and all night. She said. Help was required.  
Sophie strongly suspected her mother of telling fibs, and told her so.  
Was Zeno behind it she asked?  
No! Her mother denied it categorically. Why would it be anything to do with him?  
She'd only met him the once, and she'd told him, in no uncertain terms, how unimpressed she was! 

Okay. Maybe she did have a small sum stashed away, as she'd said. Sophie decided not to dwell on it further. It was a blessed relief. More than she could possibly say.  
The nurse was an invaluable help. Kind, calm and assured. 

oOo

Her work at the house took second place. Somehow she found it difficult to concentrate.  
She completed her tasks with her usual unflappable competence, but as an automaton. Joyless and unengaged. Merely going through the motions.  
Some days she would float right through almost untouched. On others she would suddenly become overwhelmed with sorrow, and be almost unable to continue.

She saw very little of her employer. 

The new album was well into the final recording stage. The band permanently camped at the house and in the studio. Occasionally the strains of a melody would drift across the lawns to reach her ears. Once or twice she heard Zeno's distinctive vocals, raised in a haunting anthem, and she would pause, listen, and find a tear springing to her eye unbidden. Before she came back into herself and brushed it angrily away. 

It was Nigel's wife she saw most. The two had been married for almost ten years, a long time in celebrity terms. Helen was a lawyer, smart, funny and sassy. She met Nige when she was nineteen, still at University. Of the three band members Nigel was the most down to earth, the most unaffected by the fame and the madness. That, he said, was down to Helen. She kept him grounded. She was sensible, she was REAL. Not like a Nell, not like the groupies or hangers on. 

Sophie found her sitting in Zeno's study one morning. Apparently busy sorting out some promotion for the release of the new album.  
They chatted. Got on well. Very well.  
The first of many such conversations.  
Would Sophie be able to give her a hand?  
There was a great deal to do, and it really wasn't her task to do it......but as a favour to Zeno, she'd agreed, for the time being, to help out. 

She needed someone quick on the uptake, clever and sharp.......and from what Zeno told her.......

Sophie was faintly annoyed, had Zeno been discussing her? With the others? What had he been saying she wondered? 

Helen began, over these meetings, perhaps over a cup of coffee as Sophie took a break, to explain to her, the role of Band Manager. What it entailed, how it worked. All the stuff Goffo once dealt with on a daily basis. Sophie was interested, fascinated even. It required a high level of organisational skill, good communications, patience and a thick skin mainly. All qualities Helen possessed in shed loads. She guessed that Nige's wife could do the job with her hands tied behind her back, and said so.  
Were there many female managers, she asked?  
None that Helen knew of.  
She'd be the first then! Sophie smiled.  
"No!" Helen replied, with a wry little smile. "Not me.........."

oOo

Her mother sank rapidly.  
Each day when Sophie left for work, she wondered if it would be the last. 

Yet working took her out of herself.  
She needed the distraction. 

Under Helen's guidance she was starting to discover the ins and outs of 'The Tour', what it entailed, who needed to be contacted. How venues were booked, and transportation between gigs arranged. Sophie was enjoying being Helen's right hand. Being firm with people over the phone, yet remaining calm and polite, was something she didn't find difficult. Of course Helen knew the business, she'd been in the wings for years, and her legal brain was sharp as a tack. 

Less and less was Sophie concerned with the running of the house, although she admitted to Helen that it was a piece of cake really. Instead she was taking on board tasks for Nige's wife, and finding the challenge a rewarding one. 

It was also during this time, that she accidentally discovered that Zeno had been visiting her mother on a fairly regular basis. 

It came as quite a shock. 

It was on an occasion when she'd returned home from work early. For the simple reason that the band had all gone up to London. The house was empty.  
She quite thought Zeno had gone too. So seldom had she seen him, and when she had, he'd given her no more than a cursory nod, or a word of greeting.  
Still sulking! She observed.  
Pathetic. 

Well she couldn't waste time worrying about him. 

So it was quite a surprise to round the corner of the lane and see his car parked outside her house.  
He looked up sheepishly as she entered.  
Standing hurriedly, from where he'd been sitting at her mother's bedside, her hand held in his.  
Sophie looked from one to the other in puzzlement. While both regarded her guiltily. 

"What's going on?" She asked, her tone slightly less than friendly. 

Her mother looked tired. Her large eyes peering out of her gaunt face. The skin with a slightly yellowish tinge that spoke of an end soon to come.  
"Nothing dear. Nothing at all. Harry just dropped in for a chat." 

"Harry.........?" Sophie frowned.

"I was just going......" Zeno leaned forward and squeezed her mother's thin bony hand once more.  
"Come again dear! If I'm still here!" They exchanged a look, and Zeno walked towards the door. 

Sophie's gaze followed him, her mouth agape.  
"Helen tells me you're a brilliant temporary manager's assistant!" He observed. "She said you handle everything with aplomb! A natural!"  
"I.....er......yeah." She stammered, completely flustered by this unexpected turn of events.  
"Er, yeah....it's fun.....more interesting than cleaning sinks and flower arranging!"  
Smiling his goodbyes, she watched him swing himself into the car without opening the door, and roar away. 

"What was all that about?" She asked, returning to her mother's side.  
"About?" Her mother whispered, looking weary.

"Zeno? Turning up here like that, out of the blue?" She reached for the glass by the bedside, and supporting her mother's head, helped her to drink.  
"It wasn't out of the blue dear! Harry often......." She stopped abruptly.  
"Harry......often what? Pops in?" Her tone became abrasive.

"You're still angry with him. Aren't you? He didn't mean anything........he was just trying to help. But he'd forgotten what helping in the normal way is. Throwing money at a problem isn't the way to solve it. He knows that now..........Have you ever met his mum?"  
"No. I haven't." Sophie replied, setting the tumbler down again. 

"She and I were fast friends you know." There was a little smile, playing across her lips.  
"When you two were small.......you wouldn't remember, but you used to play together."  
"We used to.........what? When?" Sophie was incredulous.  
"We were both single mums.....both married to ne'er do well's! He was a lovely little boy, very sensitive. Sweet. He still is. He's lost, Sophie. He's lost his way. What he needs is someone to show him, remind him. That's all he needs." 

"What Zeno needs is a kick up the backside!" She replied with a scoff. 

"Zeno is just a front, darling. He's still Harry really, you know, and he's not beyond redemption, no one is."  
Her eyes fluttered shut, and she gave a deep sigh. 

That evening a change came over her. A subtle but profound change.  
Both Sophie and the nurse sat up with her.  
As her chest rose and fell slowly. As she searched for each breath. 

At four in the morning she slipped quietly away.


	12. Smack Down.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of Sophie's mum's funeral.
> 
> Sophie puts two and two together............

CHAPTER TWELVE.   
SMACK DOWN.

Sophie's world fell down about her ears. 

She slid into a numb haze.  
People spoke to her, she answered, she functioned. But she felt nothing. 

There were so many things to organise.   
News quickly spread through the village. Like jungle drums. 

The house was full of people, the doctor came to issue the death certificate. The Funeral directors were contacted. Neighbours turned up with food for her. Trying to be kind. She admitted them all, gave them tea, thanked them, saw them out.   
Like a robot.   
Her brain was a fog.   
Misty and indistinct. 

She cried no tears. 

Just in shock. 

Because although prepared for the end, when it came it was as much a blow as if her mother had been knocked down in the street. 

It was almost lunchtime before everyone had gone. The place falling into an eerie silence.   
Just the ticking of the clock. 

Sophie had eaten nothing. Wasn't hungry.   
She curled up on the sofa with a hot water bottle and a blanket, because she felt so cold. So desperately tired. 

And so alone. 

The glue that held her together was gone. 

A little after noon, there was a gentle knock on the door.   
She almost didn't answer it.   
When she did, Zeno was standing there.   
Solemn. 

"I heard. I'm sorry." He said simply.   
She opened the door wider and stepped back to allow him to enter.   
Ducking his head under the lintel, as he did so.   
Standing awkwardly, unsure of what to say or do. 

She hadn't spoken. 

"Helen is coming back from London. She'll call on you tomorrow. She wants to help you, with the funeral and everything. She asked me to pass on her condolences."   
His eyes were scanning her face, looking for a sign she'd taken it in, and noticed that her pupils were widely dilated, she was white as a sheet, her forehead clammy. 

"You should sit." He coaxed.

She shrugged, and turned away. 

"Tea?" She offered, mechanically.   
"I'll make it." He replied, moving passed her and into the kitchen.   
She followed him blindly, almost stumbling at the doorway, the grief and the trauma closing her down.  
Leaning heavily against the doorframe.   
He filled the kettle and set it boiling. Finding cups, milk, tea bags. 

He passed her the mug and she took it with a shaking hand. Taking a sip, closing her eyes.   
"You okay?" He asked gently. "Stupid! Course you're not okay.....but I mean, you look unwell?"   
She shook her head dumbly, unable to speak.   
"What can I do? Anything? Just say?" He was taking her arm at the elbow, as he spoke.   
"I feel sick." She whispered.   
"Come and sit down, before you fall down!" He led her to the couch.   
She shivered, no control.   
"Cold!" She murmured.   
"Drink the tea, it's got loads of sugar in." He encouraged.   
She swallowed it down obediently, although it caused her to retch.   
"Sophie, you sure you're gonna be okay here, by yourself? You can come and stay at the house." He sat down beside her. 

It was at that moment that she seemed to really notice him, see that he was actually there, and take it in.   
"Can I ask you something?" She muttered, her voice like a reed in the wind.   
"Anything." He replied earnestly. 

"Will you stay for a bit......please Harry? Just for a bit."   
He smiled gently.  
"Of course. As long as you like." His heart gave a jolt as she called him by his name, but he said nothing.   
"Can you eat something? If I make it?" He added.   
She shook her head.   
"Need to sleep. I'm so weary. Can't fight it anymore.......and so cold."   
Her body gave an involuntary shudder.   
"Sophie, come here." He put his arms around her, and drew her into him. 

There was no protest. 

Instead she snuggled herself against his chest, her head tucked into the curve of his neck, her knees drawn up to the side. One arm across his body, fingers clutching his shirt. He held her tight and close.   
Heard a great heaving sigh leave her, felt her eyes falling closed, jaw slackening. Sliding gracefully down, sinking into his embrace.   
At that moment she didn't care if it was Zeno......or Harry......or the King of the Bongo!   
To be held was what she needed.

oOo

How Sophie got through the next few days she wasn't sure.   
Without Helen she didn't think she would possibly have managed. 

Her new friend took everything in hand.   
Came with her to discuss the burial service with the vicar. Sorted out all the arrangements.   
Because Sophie's place was so small, Helen organised the wake to be held at Zeno's house. Turning over the large conservatory for the purpose. She helped order the flowers, went with her to collect the Death Certificate, phoned or corresponded with all the relevant institutions.....banks, finance, social security, everyone. 

On the day of the funeral itself, almost the entire village turned out. Sophie's mother had lived in the area almost all her life. Everyone knew her, she was a friend and neighbour to them all. The church was packed.   
All the band members attended. Helen staying close to Sophie's side, holding her arm comfortingly.   
As she had no other family.  
When Zeno arrived there was an audible gasp.   
Tall and lean. Dark circular shades. Long coat. Dressed entirely in black.   
He carried a wreath of white lilies. His mother was beside him, and they walked to their seats with their arms linked at the elbow.   
Press were there. But Barry, Jim and Nige made quite sure they were kept away.   
Told them firmly, this was not about Zeno. They could take their pictures outside the cemetery gates.   
Since everyone was mighty curious to see inside the famous Vedast establishment, almost everyone came on to the house afterwards.   
Helen had laid on a spread, worthy of a rockstar. The conservatory was beautiful, tasteful, light and airy. The double doors open to allow the guests to spill out into the garden. 

Sophie accepted the hugs and good wishes, the sympathy and outpouring of everyone present. 

Still no tears. 

A catatonic state, where nothing penetrated.   
Going through the motions. 

Zeno's mother came over to her.   
"Sophie dear! It's sad that we have to meet on this day. Your mother and I were once close. Shared the same adversity. When you and Harry were young. Come and see me dear, when you feel better. So we can have a proper chat. Harry has mentioned you often. I'd be pleased to see you." 

Sophie gazed down at the little woman. Her face open and friendly, eyes the same colour as Zeno's. The hand resting in her own, kindly, supportive. 

"I will. I would like that. Thank you Mrs Goodbody. Thank you very much."

It was the first thing that had really sunk in all day. 

oOo

Boxes and boxes of stuff, up in the loft.   
Helen was helping Sophie go through her mother's things.   
Nicer clothes bagged up to go to the charity shop, papers and documents sorted and shredded, little moments of a life lived.  
"Thank you so much for all this Helen. I honestly don't know what I would have done these last few weeks, you've been the best friend I could ever have hoped for." 

"Sophie, I did it because you're a wonderful person. I'm proud to call you a friend. I know we've not known each other long, but I've a feeling it's a connection we'll always have. Somehow we just clicked." She smiled, as she held up a hideous print she'd just found propped against the back wall. Sophie pulled a face. 

"Ye Gods! No.....that one can definitely go! I don't think even Barnados will be able to sell that one!   
It can go in the skip!"   
"Sophie.....seriously, there are dead animals in this corner! When was the last time you came up here?"   
She brushed a cobweb out of her hair. 

"Years and years. Mum shoved all this stuff up here and I don't think I ever climbed up to look at it! Not ever!" She coughed, as a shroud of dust puffed out from an ancient leather suitcase.  
"Lord.....this is heavy.......I wonder what's in it?" 

She clicked the tab locks and the case popped open. 

Dozens and dozens of black and white photographs. 

"Helen.......look at these!" She began to rifle through them. Her friend came over and knelt beside her in the dim light. 

"Look......isn't that Mrs Goodbody.......? With my mum.......Helen.......look........that's me.........and Harry! Why have I never seen these? There are lots..........we can't be more than two or three.....either of us. Ze......Harry should see these." 

oOo

Zeno sat in a stunned silence, on the floor in the lounge at his place, legs curled up under him.  
The moth eaten case open before them.   
Surrounded by the old snaps. Sorting through, peering closely at the two young ladies and their small offspring. 

Two women, their arms linked. Smiling into the camera, but an inherent sadness in their both their eyes.  
A pair of little toddlers, standing close.......holding hands.....a sweet chubby girl with her hair in bunches, and a gawky little boy with knobbly knees, in shorts and an elastic snake belt. Only a few months between them. 

They were as close now. 

Shoulder to shoulder as they sat there on the rug. 

There were letters too, from one woman to the other.   
Clearly there had once been a strong bond between them.   
"Did my mum say anything to you about our dads, when you visited her? She never told me what you and she talked about!" She mused thoughtfully.   
"No. Not really. What we talked about was between her and me! My own mum never talked about my dad to me much. Only said he was a shit, and he buggered off and left her, when I was a baby." He held up another photo in his long fingers, turning it over to see the date scribbled on the back.   
"Nor did mine. She was bitter that he'd abandoned us, and she never heard from him again, bringing me up alone was a struggle. We moved away before I started school, but then she moved back and I went to St Martin's......that's why I wasn't at school with you." 

As Sophie thumbed the pictures, squinting at them carefully, she suddenly let out an audible gasp, her hand flew to her mouth and she went white. It was as if a cold hand had clutched at her heart.   
Zeno looked at her sharply.  
"What is it?" His hand went to her arm.   
"Oh God!" she whispered, her eyes were full of fear. "Harry.......you don't think......?"   
Her dark brown eyes fastened on his ice green ones.   
She paused, unable to form a coherent sentence, as the full force of her own thoughts struck home.   
"What? What? For Christ's sake!" He cried.  
"Harry......oh god, I can hardly bear to say it........but your mum.......my mum........both single mothers......both abandoned by their men........but supposing that it wasn't MEN........supposing it was MAN..........supposing it was the same man?" 

His eyes grew wide.......as if hit over the head with a blunt object.  
"But......" He stammered.   
Sophie began to cry.......as she hadn't since her mother's demise. 

"Oh my god.....Harry.......is it possible do you think.....? You could be my half-brother!"


	13. Truth Will Out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeno and Sophie visit Mrs Goodbody......

CHAPTER THIRTEEN  
TRUTH WILL OUT. 

Mrs Goodbody, looked kindly at the two anxious faces seated opposite her and smiled. 

"You have to admit, mother.....it does look a bit suspicious." All that day Zeno had appeared as one shattered by a mighty blow, and here was his mother, chuckling at him, her eyes shining almost mischievously.  
She laid her hand gently on her son's arm, and then touched his face. 

"Darling, your father is Jeremy Goodbody. We met in London, married much too quickly. He was a fly by night. Brilliant mind, musical......that's where you get it from......but impetuous, and selfish. He had a previous girlfriend, before he met me. They rekindled their relationship. Soon after you were born I found out he was seeing her again and filed for divorce. He never came back. That's it. End of story." 

Zeno glanced at Sophie, who had tears in her eyes. 

"But what about my dad?" She asked, quietly. "Mum never spoke of him, are you sure it wasn't Jeremy too?"  
"My dear girl. I'm absolutely certain. I never met your father, and your mother never met Jeremy. Her situation was all hushed up......but I don't suppose it matters if I tell it, nothing can hurt your poor mother now!" She sat back and began, Harry's hand closing over Sophie's, by way of comfort.  
"Your mum was never married Sophie. That was the big secret.  
She fell for you out of wedlock, she was young and it was a huge thing in those days.  
The shame of it. The stigma.  
Especially in a small village. He was never on the scene. As soon as he found she was expecting you, he did a bunk. She had to go to an unmarried mother's home in London, to give birth to you. Afterwards she came back to the village, with a wedding ring and a new name.  
Your grandmother engineered it. Told everyone he'd been killed in an accident.  
But it was all a fib, and she kept it all these years. I was the only one who knew. We'd been friends ever since school. Jeremy left me and Harry and your dad left you. There was a mutual bond there. We were strong, we were alone, but we'd manage somehow. And we did." 

Sophie sniffled.  
"Do you know who he was? I've never even seen my birth certificate, although it must be amongst mums papers somewhere." 

"His name was Roger. He worked at the house you now own Harry dear. He was the gardener. He was young. They both were. I can't recall his surname, but if you find the certificate he's named on it. I'm sure. But you definitely had different dads. It was just a coincidence that we were friends in the same boat! Truly." 

"Thank god!" Zeno breathed a sigh, as if the weight of the world had been removed from his shoulders. 

oOo

The following day, Sophie and Helen were sifting through the contents of her mother's bureau.  
It had taken them three hours to find the key. Sophie's initial reaction had been to attack it with a screwdriver, but they persevered! 

It was hidden inside a secret drawer, opened by pushing a certain part of the tracery on the side of the woodwork.  
The pair felt like Holmes and Watson.  
Their euphoria when the catch sprung open to reveal the key was unbridled. 

Inside were all her papers. Including Sophie's birth certificate. 

_"Sophie Anne, daughter of Roger Thompson. Aged 19 yrs. Occupation: gardener."_  
She read aloud.  
"Thompson, so his name is Thompson." She pondered.  
"So your mum and grandma let it be known she was married, then said he'd died, then she quietly reverted to her maiden name.....and everyone just called her Mrs?" Helen said.  
"I guess......my name isn't really Thompson then......because they weren't married at all. I'll just stick to the name I've got!" 

The pair laughed.  
"Well, at least you and Zeno aren't related! That would have been awful!" Helen smiled.  
"Why? It wouldn't have been ideal, but I would have liked a brother......." She replied.  
"Oh Sophie.....I think Zeno would have been terribly disappointed!" She continued systematically shuffling through the correspondence.  
"Do you? Why's that? Don't you think he'd like me as a sister?" She queried, absentmindedly.  
"Oh my dear girl.....au contraire! I think I'd go as far as to say he'd have been devastated!" Her friend grinned. 

oOo

 

"I've still not had the bill from the Funeral Directors......or the caterers. I'll have to chase them up."  
Sophie was sitting at the table in her small kitchen. Sharing a coffee with Helen, following their detective work.  
"I don't think you'll get one my darling." Helen reached across the table and took her hand.  
"What? What do you mean?" She looked up angrily.  
"Sophie......don't be angry.......Zeno paid it.....don't lose it....please! I beg you." She stood up and came around the table, to give her friend a hug.  
"What is it with him? First that bloody car......now this.......for goodness sake.....I'm like his bloody charity!" She put her head in her hands.  
"He purely wanted to help you honey......the best way he knows how. He wanted to help......that's all. He's in a position to do it......so why not? You work for him, true, but he likes you......surely you realise that?"  
Sophie looked up sharply.  
"But.........Christ! Always an ulterior motive! Now he's paid for my mother's funeral to earn himself brownie points?"  
"Sophie! No! That's not true. That's not why he paid it. It isn't. He might not be a haloed angel, but he's not that mercenary. I've known him a lot of years......he's not like that. He really isn't!"  
Pushing her chair back, she jumped up.  
"I'm going to see him. We need to talk!" She cried, grabbing her coat and bag. 

On the way to Zeno's place, Helen did her best to calm Sophie down.  
"The new album is due out any day, he's under huge pressure. There's interviews, press releases, God knows what. There's such a lot riding on this Sophie, you don't understand the enormity of it. This album has to do well. The record company demand it. The success of the next tour depends on it.......everything. He has no manager......right now he has no one at all. Please Sophie......don't say anything you'll regret." 

The car stopped and Sophie was out of it in a flash. Marching straight into the house.  
"ZENO! ZENO! Where are you?" She yelled.  
Zeno appeared at the top of the stairs, wrapped in a terry robe, rubbing his head vigorously with a towel.  
"Where's the fire?" He called.  
"Get down here! I need to speak to you!" Her anger boiled over. "I just found out what you did, Zeno!"  
"It's Harry.......to you......at least......" His voice sounded suddenly dejected, sorrowful.  
"Why? Zeno.....why? Without even discussing it with me? You should have at least asked! But no! You plough straight in.....with your cheque book out! Why? Eh? Why?" 

He threw the towel aside, roughly and came down the stairs two at a time.  
"Why the fuck do you think? His face was flushed with emotion. "Because I'd do anything for you, that's why. Anything. Because you're beautiful, and wonderful........."

"What! Wait......a moment......?" Sophie blushed furiously. 

".........I love you!" He burst forth.


	14. Mistake.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeno is plunged into despair......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some important notes here.......
> 
> I want to emphasise strongly that this is NOT a suicide attempt. 
> 
> It is a mistake. (Hence the chapter title). 
> 
> BUT......I realise how it looks and if it is a potential trigger for you please don't read.  
> You will still be able to make sense of the story and miss this chapter out. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also I must mention George Martin, who's death was announced today.  
> My inclusion of A Day in The Life was written over a week ago, and so it's really fitting I chose this particular song over the thousands I could have chosen, it was played on the radio this morning and it was SPOOKY!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.  
MISTAKE. 

"DON'T! Just......don't!" Her eyes were wide as she backed away.  
"Please!" He pleaded, following her as she stumbled from him, his hands outstretched. 

"NO!" she rambled. "You don't love me! You don't! That's not you.....all those girls.......you just want something you can't have. That's what it is. I don't believe you! It's not true."  
She turned and ran out.  
Zeno dashing after her. Calling out.  
"Sophie! Please. For gods sake! Come back.....let me talk to you. I can't do anything right, can I ? No matter what I do. Tell me what to do? Please Sophie please!"  
She jumped into Helen's car and told her to drive, before he could catch up. 

She watched as he fell back, his head in his hands. Shouting after her at the top of his voice.  
Anguish and pain. Finally sinking to his knees in the gravel. 

oOo

For three days Sophie resolutely stayed away.  
Her mind in turmoil. 

She really didn't know what to think.  
Every ounce of sense she had told her that this was a bad thing. 

She didn't want his love......did she?  
Wanted nothing from him......and yet.......and yet there were times he'd been so kind, seemed so genuine. He'd helped her so much. Remembering the morning of her mother's death. He'd held her and it felt so good. Stayed with her. Been there for her, more than once. 

God! What a mess. 

Her. With a rockstar? No, there was no way. His whole life was a sham.  
But here she was, at home, by herself, and her every thought was of him. 

Helen called in. Her face filled with concern.  
"How is he?" She asked straight away.  
"Sophie that's why I've come. He's not great, and I'm really worried. I've got to go back to London later. But I don't like leaving him.  
He's gone into some kind of meltdown. He's completely distraught. I can't talk to him. He won't see anyone. He's shut himself up in the studio.  
Sophie, I've never seen him like this. Not in all the years. Never. It's like he just wants to shut it all out. I'm scared for him, genuinely scared. Please go and see him, please Sophie. I'm asking you. As a friend. Please?"

oOo

Zeno was slumped on the sofa in his studio.  
Okay, so Sophie didn't love him.  
Didn't want him, didn't care.  
No one did.  
Nell, Goffo, none of them saw him. They saw only money, fame, kudos. All of them. 

What was the bloody point? 

What was the point of anything? There was none. All the trappings of wealth, all the adulation wasn't real. Just material 'stuff'. Worthless. No one to share it with. 

Because he was alone. 

He had nothing.  
Negative thoughts crowded in on him.  
He'd been so proud of the songs he'd written, now he doubted anyone would want to hear them. They were different from what his fans were used to.  
A new direction. People would listen, they would hate the album. Abandon him in droves. He'd lose his recording contract.  
The tour would be a disaster. Did he even have the energy to do it? He very much doubted it.  
He didn't care if he never toured again.  
All his hopes, all his dreams. The years, the months, weeks, days, and countless hours, all wasted.  
His whole life was a waste. Empty and meaningless. All he'd actually managed to achieve was sending a young woman to her death in the pursuit of some puerile practical joke. He'd never be able to forget that.....  
For a laugh, his vanity, his stupidity. Christ!

No wonder she didn't want him. 

His brain was burning. On fire. It was only mid morning. 

Sleep. 

Crying out for sleep. To shut it out. 

He took a couple of sleeping tablets he kept for emergencies.

Then lay back and waited. His head was spinning, every synapse sparking painfully.  
He wanted to just fall asleep and let it all wash away.  
Couldn't do it any more.  
Rest.  
Tomorrow morning things might look different.  
Just didn't want to face this day.  
The loneliness. The despair. 

He took two sleeping tablets.......

Snoozed for a while on the couch.  
Music playing gently in the background, in the hope it would lull him off. 

Waking less than two hours later. Couldn't sleep.  
Why couldn't he sleep?  
He put on more music. Fetched a glass of water. His legs felt funny. 

Took two sleeping tablets......

He must have dozed off.  
What time was it?  
He was drowsy, his mind only seeing Sophie, so lovely, imagining kissing her, holding her, thoughts cruelly banished by her angry countenance.  
So cross with him.  
Nothing he did was ever right. Even when he tried to do a good thing.  
Still it was wrong. Always wrong. 

He put on a vinyl, although his vision was blurred.  
Unsteady on his feet.  
The Beatles. Sergeant Pepper. A Day in the Life.  
How bloody appropriate! 

_"I read the news today, oh boy_  
_About a lucky man who made the grade_  
_And though the news was rather sad_  
_Well I just had to laugh, I saw the photograph_  
_He blew his mind out in a car_  
_He didn't notice that the lights had changed_  
_A crowd of people stood and stared_  
_They'd seen his face before........."_

He needed sleep. Make it go away.  
Make it stop, for crying out loud. 

He took two sleeping tablets........

oOo

By early afternoon Sophie could bear it no longer. Helen's words bothered her. He wasn't alright, she'd said, was worried, scared even. She had to see Zeno.  
No! The person she wanted to see was Harry.  
His face the other day haunted her. As Helen pulled the car away. The utter desolation.  
Surely he couldn't fake that?  
She cycled over to the house. 

Wandering the empty rooms. Calling his name.  
An eerie silence.  
Crossing the lawn to the studio. 

Her ear against the door.  
"Harry? You there? Please let me in. We need to talk."  
She tried the handle.  
Locked.  
From inside she could hear the rhythmic 'click click click' of the stylus stuck perpetually at the end of the vinyl LP.  
Sophie was alarmed.  
"HARRY! Open the door!" She rattled the latch but it refused to budge.  
Then she remembered a set of spare keys in the kitchen drawer.  
Sprinting back across the garden. God, please let him be okay! 

Her hands shook as she turned the key in the lock.  
Still the door wouldn't open, something heavy was blocking it.  
"HARRY! HARRY! Oh my god!"  
She forced it with all her might. A gap only just large enough to squeeze through. 

Propped almost upright against it. Where he'd slumped down. 

Unconscious.


	15. Progress.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeno is rushed to hospital.....

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.  
PROGRESS. 

Events seemed to happen very, very slowly, although in reality it was the work of a few moments.   
She knelt at the side of him, lifting his eye lids, feeling his wrist for a pulse.  
"Harry! Wake up! Harry! Please! Fuck!" 

Unresponsive.

His stomach gave a heaving motion and some saliva trickled out. A rattling noise issuing from his larynx.   
"Shit! Harry! NO!"   
She wasted no time.   
Her fingers were hooked into his mouth and down the back of his throat, clearing the airway.  
Vomit and bile spewed out, down his front and onto her legs.   
Easing him gently down, she manoeuvred him into the recovery position, on his side, one knee up.   
It was difficult because he was a dead weight and substantially taller than herself.   
She grabbed for the phone on the wall. 

Dialling with a trembling hand. Giving the directions, and barking out the facts.   
"Just drive straight over the grass. It's quicker. I'll have the gates open for you." She finished. Replacing the receiver, returning to his side, smoothing a hand across his damp forehead.   
The heartbeat was still strong, pulse too. She found the tablet foil on the side by the decks.   
Not many were missing. Thank god! 

The blue light flashed to announce the arrival of the ambulance.  
Just as Zeno gave a groan.   
"You're okay. Help is here. You'll be fine! Harry? Stay with me.....Harry? It's okay. I'm here." 

Stepping back as the paramedics took over.   
"Possible OD, Temazepam......" She felt tears pricking in her eyes as they loaded him onto a trolley and wheeled him out.   
"Can I come with him?" She begged. 

"You a relative?" 

"No, I'm a friend. He doesn't have anyone else.......not here at any rate." 

"Alright, hop in." 

She watched them work on him. Talking to him all the while. Taking his blood pressure, blood sample, shining a pen torch into his eyes. Wiring him to a portable ECG machine. He was as floppy as a rag doll. Groaning from time to time. Drifting in and out of consciousness. 

Jesus Christ! 

What if she hadn't come to see him then? What if her stupid pride had made her wait until the next day?   
She shook her head to try to banish the thoughts. He'd be alright. He hadn't taken many.   
Maybe it wasn't a serious attempt.......a cry for help perhaps?  
What on earth had been going through his head?   
Almost his last words to her had been a profession of love. 

Once at A&E they were separated, they took him into the crash area. Pumped him out.   
She waited nervously in the corridor outside. 

It was more than two hours before a nurse came and she was shown in to see him.   
Lying propped up on pillows.   
Dark circles under his eyes, deathly pale. Distraught.   
He seemed both shocked and surprised to see her. 

"Sophie! How......?"  
"I found you!" Her voice was unreliable, he looked so vulnerable laying there.   
"Why Harry? Why did you do it? Surely things didn't look that black?" She stood beside the bed.   
"What did I do? I hardly remember." He replied, rubbing his face with his hand, his brow furrowed with confusion.   
"You tried to take your own life." Her lip trembled, she had no control over it. "You took sleeping tablets."   
He shook his head emphatically.  
"No I didn't! I just wanted to sleep that's all! And they didn't work.......so I took another couple. I wasn't trying to kill myself.....I wasn't!"   
"The doctor says you took eight! Who takes eight tablets? I blame myself. It's all my fault. If I hadn't..........." Tears rolled unchecked down her face. 

He sat up, grabbing her hand.  
"No! You're wrong. You've all got it all wrong. As usual, everyone thinks they know Zeno. He's a rockstar.....that's what they do right? When they're depressed? They try to end it! That's not what happened Sophie. I don't care what you say, or what you surmise....you're wrong, and so are the doctors! It was a bloody mistake, an accident. I was just out of my sodding mind, and I forgot what I'd taken, because I got confused.   
If that's what you do think, you'd best go.   
I know you don't care anything for me anyway, so why draw it out? It's a waste of your time and mine!" 

"Harry, I came over to see you this afternoon, to say I was sorry. To say that I was wrong. When I saw you lying there......." She stopped, unable to continue, looked down at his clammy white hand, still covering hers, turned her own hand over and curled her fingers around his, warmly. Her eyes travelling slowly to his, searchingly, silently asking the question, tears spilling forth. 

Suddenly she thumped his arm angrily with her other hand, balled into a fist.   
"OW! Bloody hell!" He grimaced, and would have rubbed the offending spot, but she still gripped his hand tight. 

"You stupid BERK!" She scolded. "You scared the living shit out of me! I thought you were dead." 

She started to sob. Her forehead bowing gradually down until it rested on their conjoined hands.   
"Christ! Harry......you really, really frightened me! I thought I'd lost you!" 

The soft touch of his fingers in her hair, stroking gently.   
"I wanna go home." He whispered. 

Raising her head, she tutted.   
"You can't. They want to keep you in overnight. Monitor you. Make sure there's no side effects."   
"Bullshit. Go fetch the Doc. Tell him I'm discharging myself." He began to swing his legs out of the bed as he spoke.   
"Do you think that's wise? I mean.....it was a hefty dose. Surely you'd be better to be safe than sorry." She tried to stay his movement.   
"The longer I'm here the more likelihood of the press getting wind of it. It'll be all over the tabloids.  
Please Soph......just take me home, yeah?" 

oOo

Mercifully, there were no journalists as they swept in through the gates.   
"Right! Straight to bed for you!" She said, in her most matronly tone.   
"Sod off, Jimminy! I'm having a shower first, I stink." 

She threw down her bag and went through to the kitchen.   
"You hungry?" She asked.   
"Nah! Just dog tired and smelly!" He gave a hollow laugh.   
"I'll make us some cocoa." She began to retrieve cups, drinking chocolate and milk.   
"You staying then?" He propped himself against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.   
"Promised the Doctor I wouldn't leave you alone. And I don't intend to!" She replied, opening the microwave. "So, go have your shower.....I'll bring this up to you when it's done." 

With a slight smirk, he peeled himself from his leaning post and wandered off up the stairs.   
She listened for the sound of the running water, before continuing to make their drinks.   
By the time she took it in to him he was wrapped in his favourite silk robe, pulling a comb through his hair.   
"Where are you sleeping?" He asked simply.   
She handed him the cup, and smiled.  
"Don't get any ideas! I'll be next door.....the bed's already made up."   
He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.   
"But supposing I need you during the night?" 

"Then I'll be able to hear you!" She hedged, then sniffed herself in disgust.  
"Yuk......I smell of your vomit.......do you have a dressing gown or a shirt I can borrow? I need a wash......badly!" 

The sight of Sophie, freshly showered, her wet hair combed sleek down her back, swamped in one of his shirts, was probably the most sexy thing Zeno had ever seen.   
It came down to mid thigh, showing her bare legs, buttoned low on her breast, sleeves rolled up.   
A waft of freesias followed her from the bathroom, and it drove him crazy. 

He sighed with frustration, and climbed into his own bed.   
Exhausted, if he was honest. Wrung out by the emotion of the last few days. 

He'd been asleep for some time, although he wasn't sure how long.   
A sound woke him.   
Was it a shout? His eyes snapped open.   
Someone was there. A gentle hand on his shoulder.   
"Harry?"   
"What is it? What's happened? What's the matter?" He sat up, bewildered.   
"You were calling out. In your sleep. Was it a bad dream?" Her voice was soft, soothing, she touched his face tenderly.   
"Shit! Yeah! I was dreaming.....it was about you......"   
She'd been sitting on the edge of his bed, but now she moved closer and gathered him to her.   
A big guy, all long limbs and sinew, held in the arms of this indomitable little woman, nestling into her, overwhelmed by the scent and feel of her.   
He sighed deeply, his chest giving a wracking sob that spoke of the ache of longing he felt.   
"Stay........please........." He breathed.   
Sophie did not protest. She allowed him to settle himself there, she was half sitting, propped against his headboard.   
He wrapped himself around her, both arms and legs, clinging like a limpet to a rock.

"I love you.......so desperately........please don't leave me." He whispered, his voice muffled against her chest.   
Her fingers were combing through his hair, the touch like heaven.   
"Shhhhh! I'm staying! Okay? Now go to sleep!"   
"Can't do it any more Soph......can't be Zeno......don't wanna......so tired." She could feel his tears soaking into the fabric of the shirt.  
"Hush now! We'll talk in the morning. Get some rest."   
She leaned down and placed a kiss against his forehead, a feeble mewl the only sound he made in response. 

Her words were blessèd balm, it was all he needed. At least for the time being. It was enough.   
He felt his eyes falling shut. Drifting. As if he could no longer fight it.   
After days of uncertainty his mind could find rest.   
Finally.   
He had some peace.   
He fell into oblivion cradled in the security of her arms.


	16. Fall Out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie finally realises something......and decides to act on it........

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.  
FALL OUT. 

Quite what Sophie was expecting the following morning, she wasn't sure.  
She woke in Zeno's bed, with him still snuggled as close to her as he could possibly be.  
Carefully she extricated herself from his clinging embrace, slid out if the bed and crept away.  
It was still pretty early and he was deeply asleep. 

Downstairs she made herself breakfast. She'd eaten no dinner the night before and she was ravenously hungry.  
Just as she was dishing up bacon and eggs and making toast, her employer appeared.  
He was rough chinned, dishevelled and still looked half asleep, running a hand across his face and through his hair, as he shuffled in.  
"You okay?" She asked, as he took a seat at the kitchen counter.  
"I've got a splitting headache." He groaned.  
"I've made plenty of grub, eat something, it'll make you feel better." She poured him a coffee and passed him a plate.  
His eyes followed her every movement, shooting her a hopeful and questioning glance from under hooded eyes.  
She avoided his gaze, and turned back to the toaster.  
Without further comment he shovelled the food into his mouth until the plate was cleared.  
Leaning back with a sigh. 

"Wexford was right, you know." He remarked randomly.  
"Right about what?" She refilled his coffee mug.  
"About me. He said Harold Goodbody doesn't exist anymore. He was right. He was right about a lot of things. Certainly had me pegged. He's a canny bugger, for a policeman." 

"That's nonsense! Harry is alive and well. He just forgets sometimes, that's all." She smiled kindly.  
"I always loved practical jokes you know." He mused. "But I was stupid. Went too far. I always go too far. Spoil things. Fuck everything up. I'm bad news. It sits there, you know, Dawn, in the back of my mind, always."

"Harry....you're just feeling sorry for yourself. The point is to learn the lesson. And you have. You made a massive mistake with Dawn Stoner, but you know it. It'll never be repeated. You've done your best to make amends. It won't bring Dawn back but at least you've tried." She moved closer, placing a hand over his own.  
"Shit! You're the only one who sees it like that! I did try Sophie. I did my best to help Dawn's family. Her mother is an awful woman, but her gran is a dear. She likes me, and I like her. It's funny, you know.....but...." He paused, and gave a hollow laugh.  
"When the Esther thing came up, I actually thought it might be my chance to do something good in my life.....you know?" His voice was so quiet, his eyes clouded and sad. 

"Harry, don't get maudlin. You've done what you can for little Esther too. They won't let you adopt her, but you've helped provide for her future. She'll have a good life with the people who finally are chosen to be her parents, they'll love her and nurture her, and when she's older she'll know that you secured her education for her. That's a good thing. One day, you may have a child of your own, and you'll be a good father."  
Zeno laughed out loud.  
"Ha! Now that is a joke! I've never done anything that real......anything lasting......."

"That's crap! There's your music for starters.....it brings happiness to thousands and thousands......there aren't many people who can say that. Think how many folks listen to your songs, find comfort and meaning from them. That's something!"  
He looked up at her, his chin wobbling with suppressed emotion. 

"There's so much coming up Soph, and I just don't think I can face it. The album.....I'm petrified it'll fail. There's all the publicity to go through to promote it. It all kicks off next week. Interviews, television appearances.....the whole media circus. Not to mention the tour. I've never faced all that alone before.  
Goffo has always been there, as well as the guys, Helen, Nell.....people all around me. Massaging my ego. Keeping me sane." 

"Oh! Perleeeese!!" She scoffed. "Feeding off you more like! Basking in reflected glory! Not Helen, and the band, but the rest of them.....they are like parasites! You're stronger than you think. You'll manage, and the album will be a success. It's the best stuff you've ever written. You said so yourself. The fans will see that." She touched his face gently. He leaned into the caress and closed his eyes.  
"I could do it if you were there with me." He sighed, looking up at her. "I could cope with anything......I need a manager Sophie.......But I need a friend more.......I need a right hand man or rather a right hand woman. Or more specifically........one woman in particular."  
His glance at her was shy, boyish and heart meltingly endearing.  
"And that's where the trouble lies Harry........." She murmured, backing away slightly.  
"A girl is in serious danger where you're concerned! It would be so easy to fall for you......so easy. I've just lost my mum.....I'm a mess at the moment, I'm not sure that now is the right time for me to start a relationship....with you or anyone else. As for being your manager.....well.... I simply don't think I'm up to the job, or how the two things would work out! I think it's a minefield! And I'd be very likely to get blown up." 

Zeno puffed out his cheeks and pushed away from her, rising and pouring himself yet another coffee.  
"I'll be in the studio.....if anyone wants me." He said dejectedly, and ambled away.

oOo

 

Sophie watched him walk across the lawn. The slump in his shoulders, the hang of his head.  
He looked thinner than ever, like a strong wind would blow him over.  
She knew her resolve was weakening, she knew she had feelings for him, although she'd been careful not to voice them, and even more careful of admitting them to herself.  
If she was honest, he frightened her, just a little. The intensity, the almost bipolar mood swings, from euphoria to despair, four seasons in one day. He was a rollercoaster ride and no mistake.  
Such was the intelligent creative mind he possessed.  
Her own feelings scared her too. Knowing she was vulnerable and weak at the moment, her emotions raw.  
How close had she come last night? 

Very close. 

She could have melted her resolve in a heartbeat. Given in.  
His words of endearment had pierced her, she knew him to be lonely, insecure, and wracked with self doubt. His usual supreme confidence had taken a severe bashing. 

The ghost of Dawn Stoner hung over his head. Had done for the last year. It ate away at him and coloured everything he did.  
Breaking with Nell, then Goffo, writing songs the way he had, it was all due to the fall out.  
Filled with remorse. Taking a long hard look at himself, and not liking what he saw. 

But what of her?  
Hadn't she been forced to take stock of her own life too?  
Wasn't she just as lonely? Hadn't she just lost her one companion, the person who had been there for her for all her life? Trustworthy and constant. Never failing. 

 

Could she expect that from Harry? Or any commitment at all? Wasn't he just a womaniser? A collector and user of lost souls?  
In her mind she noted that she never thought of him as Zeno now. She would never call him that again. Others could, but not her. 

Harry. 

That's who he was to her. Harold Goodbody. There was enough of him left to save him from being sucked into the mire. 

Then there was the manager thing.  
Good God!  
Could she take on that task? And be in love with him at the same time?  
It was a recipe for disaster.  
She actually had little doubt she could do the job, despite voicing her misgivings to Harry himself.  
It was true she had a lot to learn, but she knew she could handle it.  
But could she handle the adulation of the fans, all the girls who flocked round him, wrote him letters professing their love, showered him with gifts of cushions and love hearts and such? Who sent him photos of themselves naked, who flung themselves at him at gigs, who wanted to be included in the after gig parties, in the hope he might have sex with them and fulfil their fantasies. 

If he was with her, there could be no hanky panky. She couldn't stand it.  
Nell had accepted it, she'd actively encouraged it, her jealousy excited both him and Nell herself.....all a game. Par for the course in the life of a pop star.....she had been his main plaything and she was happy to go along with that.  
The fact she was someone else's wife was beside the point, if anything it heightened the fun.  
Sophie could never deal with that. She wasn't going to share him. If he was her's, he was her's.  
Could he accept that? Be a one woman man? 

Basically stop being Zeno? At least when they were together? 

It was a lot to ask. 

Wouldn't he tire of her, just as he had Nell? And all the other Nell's who'd gone before?  
Seek his entertainment elsewhere?  
He'd once told her Nell began to stifle his creativity.......what if that happened with her?  
Music was his world. Where would she be then?  
It didn't bear thinking about. 

Sophie slumped down on the sofa in the living room. Tears were not far away. 

What did she want right now? This very minute? More than anything.....  
Human contact.  
Arms around her, the feeling of being wanted, loved, desired. 

Jesus! She was in love with him......wasn't she? Ear 'oles over breakfast time!  
It smacked her right between the eyes. 

She recalled the moment she thought he was dead......when she'd found him the day before.  
The way that made her feel. The thought that she might have lost him forever.

Her chest ached at the memory.

Shit!  
Leaving the house she ran across hurriedly to the studio. She was out of her mind.  
'Do this quickly, before you have time to think, or to change your mind.' She thought.  
Taking a deep breath, steeling herself, she listened at the door.......


	17. Affirmation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title speaks for itself........does exactly what it says on the tin!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Zeno/Harry is singing is from Cat Stevens.....Teaser and the Firecat album. It came out in 1970 so was already 20 years old when this story is set.  
> I have it on vinyl and it's a favourite.
> 
> A live version is available on YouTube and it's called 'How Can I Tell You.' So if you want to hear what he was singing.......

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.  
AFFIRMATION.

 

She could hear him singing, accompanying himself on the acoustic.  
Recognising the song immediately.....it was an old Cat Stevens......from Teaser and the Firecat. She'd seen the vinyl on his shelf, it made her smile to see it there.....1970......  
Not his kinda thing she'd have said........but he sang it well........

 

_"How can I tell you that I love you, I love you_  
_But I can't think of right words to say_  
_I long to tell you that I'm always thinking of you ___  
_I'm always thinking of you, but my words_  
_Just blow away, just blow away_  
_It always ends up to one thing, honey_  
_And I can't think of right words to say_  
_Wherever I am girl, I'm always walking with you_  
_I'm always walking with you, but I look and you're not there_  
_Whoever I'm with, I'm always, always talking to you_  
_I'm always talking to you, and I'm sad that_  
_You can't hear, sad that you can't hear_  
_It always ends up to one thing, honey,_  
_When I look and you're not there_  
_I need to know you, need to feel my arms around you_  
_Feel my arms around you, like a sea around a shore_  
_And - each night and day I pray, in hope_  
_That I might find you, in hope that I might_  
_Find you, because heart's can do no more_  
_It always ends up to one thing honey, still I kneel upon the floor_  
_How can I tell you that I love you, I love you_  
_But I can't think of right words to say_  
_I long to tell you that I'm always thinking of you_  
_I'm always thinking of you...._  
_It always ends up to one thing honey_  
_And I can't think of right words to say"_

Opening the door quietly, she crept inside.  
He was sitting with his back to the door, in a low chair. Leaning over to place the guitar on a stand next to him.  
Then his head bowed, hands in his hair, shoulders shaking.

He hadn't heard her enter, and she came up behind him, placing her arms gently around his neck.  
At first he jumped in surprise, and gave a startled yelp, then he tilted back into her embrace with a muted sob.  
"Sophie! Fuck!"  
She moved round without relaxing her hold, to stand in front of him, bending down, her hands cupping his face, locking eyes, then straddling his lap and leaning in to bring her lips to his.  
To her amazement, he ducked his head down. Placing instead a purposeful kiss on her forehead, slow and lingering.  
Why did that feel so wonderful? So sensual. 

Neither spoke. Although the turmoil going on inside his head was written clearly across his face.......  
'What are you doing? Is this happening? Hold back. How can I possibly tell you what this means to me?  
Don't let me fuck it up!'

She chased his evasive movement again, this time capturing his mouth and planting a gentle kiss there. He gave a small sound of protest, but she refused to relinquish the contact.  
Gradually her kiss was returned. His pressure alternately strengthening, then pulling back slightly, but each renewed assault lasted a little longer. Drawing it out, tugging her just a tiny bit closer. 

Breaking apart after a few seconds, his fingers came up to touch his own mouth where her lips had been, tracing the line of them, as if trying to hold on to the memory of her taste, or the feel of her.  
His eyes darting to hers, then away again, unsure, fearful.  
He closed in once more, still tentative, to first one cheek, then the other, soft pecks, then his lips beside her earlobe,  
"Sophie!" He whispered, his breath no more than a hiss. 

In reply her fingers combed through his lustrous hair, smoothing it back and away from his forehead.  
The smile she gave him made his heart leap madly inside his rib cage. Beating out a military tattoo inside his chest.  
Slowly she allowed herself to continue her exploration of every inch of skin within her reach, his cheeks, tasting the salty wetness there, down his jawline, his throat, pulse point, every sinew, each cleft and hollow of his outstretched neck given the same minute attention.  
With each fresh attack he gasped, hauling her towards him, his arms wrapping her tightly in the circle of his own.  
Unable to postpone the moment a second longer, he prised himself away, desperately seeking out her mouth with his.  
Finally able to relish the joining, lips already parted, interlocking, seeming to dovetail together in a seamless conjunction. Working on and against each other, pressing forwards to deepen the kiss just that bit more, cradling the back of her head with his large hand, holding it firmly where he wanted it.  
Mutual sounds of need, of pleasure, of longing coming from both of them, as they duelled.  
Battling for dominance, opening each other wider, teeth and tongues meeting, savouring.  
A glorious, sensuous, life affirming synchronicity. 

Eventually, potential respiratory failure peeled them apart.  
"Sophie!" Was the only mantra he seemed capable of, the only word he could form.  
She looked at him from under her long lashes, her head level with his, shifting herself slightly, to adjust her weight, her legs still on either side of his hips, clasped around him. Very aware now of his body's reaction to her proximity.  
Her thumb dragged gently across his mouth, wiping away a vestige of her lipstick.  
He chanced a smile, hopeful and eager.  
She raised his face to hers, both hands just under his chin. Looking at him sternly. 

"Don't you dare break my heart, Harold Goodbody, or I swear to God........ I'll.......I'll set your mother onto you!"  
His eyes widened in mock terror.

oOo

"Shall we continue this elsewhere?" His eyebrows raised and lowered almost comically to emphasise the daring in his question.  
"Or here could work as well." He continued when she hesitated slightly. 

"Take me to your bed, Harry." She said decisively, moving backwards to slide off his lap and stand.  
Without a word he rose to his feet, held out a hand to her, which she took, his long elegant fingers curling around her own.  
Leading her out of the studio, across the greensward and into the house. 

Standing chest to chest beside his bed.  
There was no way he wanted to rush this.  
Needed to take his time.  
Zeno Vedast had experienced an awful lot of sex. But Harry Goodbody hadn't made love to a woman for a very long time.  
He didn't just want sex, he wanted to make love. Passionate love.  
There was a world of difference in his mind. 

Not a quick fondle and a fumble in some hotel room with a willing punter......pants and trousers round his thighs, hands up under her clothes. Not even knowing her name.  
Goffo once described it as 'two pumps and a squirt'........he wasn't far wrong.

This occasion was going to be so far removed from that. 

Slow, gentle.  
Buttons and bra clasp yielding. Beautiful pale skin exposed.  
She was lovely, he knew she would be. 

How many times had he barely even bothered to look beyond the lust......just a quick shag in the dark? 

Broad daylight now, drinking in the sight of her as she stood before him, so perfect. Breathing shallow, flushed in the cheek, her lips swollen with desire.  
Nervous.  
Her hair falling over her shoulders, shapely teardrop breasts, the areola pale and pink, standing erect. Tight across the stomach, sucking in her abs as he peeled off the borrowed shirt and her underwear.  
Covering her with kisses all the while, she moaned under his caresses, stroking her small hands across his now bared chest, ridged and skinny, just a slip of a washboard.  
"It's been a while for me." She murmured as his mouth closed over her breast.  
Her legs almost buckled under her as his hand caressed the inside of her thighs, and she grabbed onto him for support. He scooped her up, laid her back on the bed, his body partly over her torso, one leg between hers, keeping them apart.  
Mouth moving across her skin, nibbling, sucking then laving the spot with his tongue.  
Waves of arousal coursing through her.  
"I want to see you." She whispered. "Can I ?"  
He nodded and moved reluctantly backwards, allowing her to undo the belt and waistband of his trousers.  
Pushing them down. A tremble in her fingers.  
"Take them off." She said faintly. He obeyed silently. When she kneaded him through his boxers he gasped and drew away momentarily.  
"Christ! Sophie, I want this so badly." His voice was broken, struggling for control.  
"Condom?" She urged, as his weight came across her again, his erection pressing against her core. Wetness appearing on the material in readiness for what was to come.  
Compliant, he reached to the drawer of the bedside cabinet and took out a foil.  
"Let me." She murmured, kneeling up and unhurriedly exposing him inch by inch, teasingly, then rolling the sheath down over his length.  
Harry was almost frantic, drawing in his stomach muscles, as his cock strained upwards, his breathing coming in erratic gasps.  
"Fuck......can't wait.......please.....! Please let me......." He exhaled sharply. His mouth crashing against hers in a desperate kiss.  
She took him in her arms then, positioning herself and pulling him down with her.  
"Love me Harry." She purred, " Love me now!"  
She took him inside her with a moan of pleasure and an arch of her back. Feeling him, holding him closer as he began to move, thrusting with a fluid motion, meeting her undulations with his own.  
"Oh god!" He groaned. "Soph.....I've wanted this........so much.......this is.....is......beyond........I'm not going to last long......"  
Heat between them, a passion held back for a long time. Pressure building, the vein in his neck bulging. His pace quickening as he fought to hold off.  
He came with a strangled sob, and his pulsing threw her over with him. Her nails digging into the flesh on his back, marking him.  
Falling. Spiralling down on a wave of sensual euphoria. 

He rolled to the side finally. Exhausted and overwrought. His chest heaving still.  
Laying on his back. Staring up at the ceiling.  
"God knows, I love you." He said, between breaths. "So much."  
She sat up, moving to lean on his chest.  
"Harry Goodbody. I love you too. And it scares the hell out of me!"  
He swung his legs out of the bed and went to the bathroom, to divest himself of the rubber.  
Returning to crawl under the duvet beside her, settling himself comfortably in her arms, as they both fell into a dreamy post coital haze. 

It was still only mid morning.


	18. United We Stand.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before......and beyond.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must just point out that social media in 1990 was obviously nothing like as full on as it is now. There was no Twitter or Facebook or any other sharing sites. But the Internet was just as much a craze, AOL was launched in 1985....yeah! Amazing! And picture/story sharing really took off rapidly, I'm not sure 'shipping' was a 'thing' then but I've included it to give an insight to Zeno's world. (It was there.....it just wasn't called 'shipping' lol)!!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.  
UNITED WE STAND. 

It was early evening before hunger and thirst drove them out of bed.  
A day spent in delicious reverie. 

A flurry of kissing and cuddling and torrid love making.  
Unable to drag themselves apart. 

"We should get up!" She groaned finally, as they drew back from yet another clinch. 

"Let's go over to mum's!" He exclaimed suddenly, a childish excitement on his face. 

Sophie regarded him with amusement.  
"You want to parade me in front of your mother?" She laughed.  
"I'm not sure 'parade' is quite the word, but she'd be really pleased to see us, I know she would." He sat up in bed, his hair wild and unruly, in a cascade of untamed curls.  
She smiled at him fondly.  
"Alright! But I need a shower first, and so do you.....you look like someone's plugged you into an amp socket!"

Washed and brushed, he skipped out of the house, clutching her hand. Leaping into the car over the door top as she'd seen him do outside her house, so many days ago.  
She found herself laughing at him.  
"What?" He said, turning sideways to grin at her coyly.  
"Look at you! All happy! Hard to believe you were in despair not so many hours ago.....you're like the North wind Harry, you blow hot and cold."  
He leaned over and captured her in a crushing embrace, peppering her face with little kisses.  
"I'm happy because I finally know!" He beamed.  
"Know what?" She asked, pulling away from him.  
"Know where I'm going, what I want. It's the first time since I was at school, when I knew I wanted to write songs and sing.........that's big......really big! In fact it's bloody enormous!" 

He drove like the demons from hell were chasing him. As if he was running from them and leaving them all far behind.  
Throwing back his head and laughing almost hysterically.  
Sophie scolded him.  
"Harry! Slow down or you'll kill us both. Please!"  
Taking his foot off the accelerator he eased down to a sensible speed, his laughter fading to mild amusement.  
"You have to keep a sense of perspective. Seriously!" She chided. "Don't get too carried away. If we are in this for the long haul, you have to learn to pace yourself a little better. Hold back a tad when you feel euphoric and let stuff out when you feel the black dog of depression. We have to find our equilibrium, our balance. I've a feeling that won't be easy with you!"  
"There's no grey with Zeno! It's black or it's white!" He retorted. "Twas ever thus!"  
"But you can temper it. Channel it.......that's the trick. I don't care about Zeno! It's Harry I love."  
He turned to her, and his look was so adoring that it bought a lump to her throat.  
"I'm hoping you will stick around to help me. I'm hoping you'll stay with me........and that you'll save me from myself." He said quietly, his mirth gone.  
"I'll try my very hardest." She replied and leaned sideways into him. He took one hand off the wheel and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close as he drove.  
"You're fucking wonderful." He whispered. 

oOo

Mrs Goodbody answered her door to a man who bounced into her living room like a puppy chasing a tennis ball.  
"Mother! I've bought Sophie! And I've come to tell you I love her!" He cried, he was holding her hand tightly, pulling her into the house and plopping down on the sofa, as close to her as he could without actually sitting in her lap.  
The old lady regarded the pair with a look of rapturous happiness.  
"Oh! I'm SO pleased!" She breathed, and pulled Sophie into a crushing hug, much as her son had done earlier.  
Once the initial wonderment was over and done with, she sat down opposite the couple, and looked ecstatically from one to the other.  
"So you've decided to take him on?" She smiled. "You are very brave and audacious, my dear.  
It won't be easy, but I know it'll be rewarding. He can be a pain!" She glanced at Harry, who looked scandalised. "But he's also loving and sweet and loyal. And I know you'll handle him!"  
"Mother!" Harry exclaimed, "Are you trying to put her off?"  
"Of course not! She knows what she's letting herself in for.......an adventure! It'll be a rough ride, but an exciting one!" Her eyes glistened.  
"She's going to take over Goffo's job. She's going to be my right hand.....in everything." He clasped her hand in his own, entwining his fingers around hers, and bringing it to his lips to kiss it fervently.  
"This is it, mum. This is what I want. I've never been more sure of it!" He said earnestly. 

As they were leaving the old lady took Sophie to one side, Harry had already kissed her goodbye and was walking away down the path.  
"Sophie dear.......thank you!" She said, tearfully.  
"For what?" She returned the offered hug with interest.  
"For having the courage." Her wrinkled hand held tight to Sophie's own. "I won't need to worry so much about him......not if he's with you. Because I know you'll take care of him. Keep him safe."  
"I hope we'll take care of each other!" She responded kindly.  
"No, I mean it. He needs someone strong like you. Someone who isn't afraid to tell him 'no'! Who isn't afraid of Zeno, but who can tell the difference. Not many can." She smiled.  
"I'll do my best. I promise." Sophie answered.  
"I've a feeling you'll be the making of him." She beamed. "You're just what he needs. Keeping his feet on the ground, keeping him real. Loving him and being there, no matter what. You're a dear girl, and you're SO like your mother, she was brave too. Fearless. She fought to keep you, and she won."  
Sophie felt tears begin to come, but she could see Harry turning and coming back up the path towards them.  
"Thank you!" She whispered. "I love him, Mrs Goodbody. With all my heart."  
With no more words necessary, they squeezed hands and parted.  
Climbing into the car and driving away. 

oOo

The following weeks were spent in a manic flurry of activity.  
Harry and Sophie were travelling around a great deal. 

The promotional circus for the up and coming album release was now in full swing.  
The guys from the band were travelling with them, so Sophie got to spend quality time with Helen, who helped and advised her whenever she needed it.  
It was a sharp learning curve. 

Interviews. Media. Publicity.  
They raked up the past. Endless questions about Dawn Stoner and the abandoned baby.  
Every word he uttered minutely analysed. Looking for a hidden meaning, even if there was none. 

'What did Zeno think about this?' 'Did he have an opinion about that?' 'Would he lend his name to this cause?' Or that charity?' 'What were the songs about? Anyone in particular?' 'Were they allegorical?' 'What did he think of the government?' 'What happened to Godfrey Tate? Did they argue, or was it an amicable parting?' 

He had to be so careful. 

So did she.  
She was under intense scrutiny from the mass social network which surrounded Zeno Vedast. 

And circus it certainly was.

'Was she secretly the mother of the abandoned baby?' 'What happened to the child?' 'How did she and Zeno meet? What was the nature of their relationship?' 'Would they marry?'

She was questioned intently about every subject.  
Then a girl came forward to say the child was hers. It was all over the papers for two days.  
'Would Zeno comment?' 'Give a statement?'  
It was then discovered that the woman couldn't possibly be the child's mother, she was in Cornwall at the time......had never even met Zeno.....other than in her own fantasies.

People were interested in Zeno's new manager who suddenly appeared everywhere he appeared.  
Who was seen on his arm at functions and in the wings at television studios. Who's picture was papped at a club as he kissed her. Forever there in the background. Quiet and unassuming.  
They wanted a story. They dug up dirt, investigated her past, they printed it. 

It was big news. 

_'The Taming of Zeno Vedast.'_ They dubbed it.

There was also a certain amount of nastiness aimed at her from fans.

'Who the hell was she?' How dare she take him away from his adoring fans? All of whom were the loves of his life......in their own eyes. He wasn't hers! He was theirs. He belonged to them.  
The songs he wrote were only for them. Not for this little usurper. Why was she so special?  
They hated her. They paired him off with others he worked with, saw a romance with every woman he so much as smiled at.  
Pictures of him would appear with his arm round a singer he'd collaborated with, the caption beneath.....  
"Awww, I really ship these two......so sweet! Look how he looks at her! You can see they're in love!"  
Never mind that the girl was happily married to someone else!  
When he was asked what he thought of her, and said he thought she was wonderful, it was immediately seized upon and printed, discussed online amongst the fans.  
"That proves it then. He said she was wonderful, they must be having an affair!" 

Sophie had to learn to close her mind to it all.  
Ignore the madness and the endless speculation. 

Then there was the vitriol fired at Harry himself.

'Why did he want Sophie? What about us? His adoring fan girls. Who all wanted a piece of him. Who turned up religiously at every event. Who sent him gifts because only they knew what he liked and what he wanted and how to endear themselves to him. How dare he spend time with just her?  
He was blinded by her, clearly, it was really them he really wanted.  
Pictures were shared with Sophie cropped out. 

Every glance scrutinised, every smile or wave photographed. Each shirt or pair of trousers, the way he wore his hair.....if he'd shaved or not. His dark glasses, his signet ring. What he said in interviews....picked apart, taken out of context.  
Twisted. 

There were those online who fought amongst themselves, vying for attention.....'don't look at her Zeno, look at me'. 'I know you. You're my friend. I love you....much more than her, more than any of the others.' Messages of hate in his name, sent to other fans on social media, accusative, spiteful, jealous and cruel.  
Although they would be all sweetness and light if they actually ever met him.  
As if that would endear Zeno to them! As if he would look twice at those who behaved that way to others!! 

The ugly side of Zeno's fandom. 

Sophie saw it all. 

Zeno didn't concern himself with any of it. He couldn't.  
He turned up. He smiled. He was nice. Gave of his time. 

Yet kept himself aloof.

To read such things would destroy him. 

He was far too sensitive and thin skinned. He removed himself from it, and did his best to protect those he loved from it too.  
Living in a little bubble.

Remained unfailingly kind and generous to each and every one of them.  
But retained a certain detachment.

Clung to his circle of reality.  
Safe. 

It was the only way to retain his sanity.  
He knew fame to be fleeting, he knew he had to live for the moment. That one day it would all be gone. 

But he also had to maintain a life.  
Normality.

He had that now.  
With Sophie at his side.  
He could face them all. 

The tour dates were published.  
The vast machine that was Zeno Vedast would be rolling into a town near you!  
He and Sophie were aboard the fairground ride, and they couldn't get off until the tour was done, when they could come back down to earth.  
With a bump. 

It drew them closer and closer together.  
Strengthened their bond.  
They were a team.  
They were deeply in love.


	19. Zeno Mania.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gruelling tour is in full swing.........

CHAPTER NINETEEN.  
ZENO MANIA.

_**"Zeno's new album a triumph!"** _ **NME.**

_**"Pop singer Zeno releases third album. Go buy it."** _ **ROLLING STONE.**

_**"Zeno Vedast strikes gold!"**_ **DAILY MAIL.**

_**"Third album Zeno's best yet."** _ **ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE.**

oOo

Over an early breakfast Harry pored over the stack of publications that had been delivered. Thumbing through the reviews.  
Almost unanimous in their praise. 

There was no doubt about it. The album was huge. The UK tour was a sell out. Not a ticket to be had. 

Harry and Sophie were at Davett Gardens. South Kensington.  
They both preferred to be 'at home' as they referred to the house at Kings Markham. But it wasn't always possible. A base in London was essential. 

Sophie entered and wrapped her arms around his neck, placing a kiss just under his ear.  
"Morning!" She yawned sleepily. "You're up with the lark."  
"Going over Wembley Arena later. Sound checks for tomorrow night." He smiled up at her, then pulled her round and onto his lap making her squeal.  
"So excited about this one." He said with a hint of gruffness in his voice. She touched her mouth to his experimentally, the kiss deepened and turned tender.  
"Still love me?" He asked, pulling away reluctantly.  
"Hmmmm? Let me see?" She questioned, before kissing him again, more forcefully, then moving back to examine the effect.  
"Yep! Still love you!" She confirmed.  
He laughed a cheeky coquettish giggle, and went back in for more.  
She squirmed from him as she felt his hand begin to wander.  
"Ah ah!" She scolded. "No time! You'll be late!"  
"The day I haven't time for this is the day I jack it all in." He replied, and kissed her a fourth time.  
There was no further protest from her as his fingers moved teasingly up under her nightdress. 

oOo

Number one in the charts in both the UK and the States and all over Europe. 

Success that astonished even Zeno. No one had expected this level of positivity.  
The record company wanted a thirty city US tour. Followed by a short break, before heading out on an equally long European leg.  
This would encompass another twenty-five dates in major venues all over the continent.  
Taking in Paris, Berlin, Stockholm, and Rome, amongst others.  
A vast rumbling juggernaut. 

It was gruelling.

Never stopped. 

His face on every publication. Plastered on every billboard across the country.  
The Merchandise bandwagon was another hugely lucrative side line.  
All of which had to be endorsed and approved.  
T Shirts, mugs, posters, and those were just the tip of the iceberg. 

Sophie had to admit that seeing her man made into an eleven inch 'Ken' style doll was the most surreal thing ever.  
He even had a little guitar! 

Each week he now received sackfuls of fan mail. Sophie employed two girls in a small office to go through it all. Zeno read a good deal of it. Some was set aside for him to answer personally. The backlog was horrific. But he tried. Everyone who wrote received a reply of some kind, either a personal response or a typed reply and a signed card. 

Zeno Vedast was big business. He made a lot of people a great deal of money.  
A large amount of it he never even saw. It was creamed off before it ever reached him.  
But Sophie found him a damn good accountant, who handled his finances.  
Someone who protected his interests, and provided for the future.

He would want for nothing ever again. 

To him, that wasn't really important. Once you had a certain amount of money, it ceased to be an issue. It was more than he could possibly spend in a dozen lifetimes.  
So with Sophie's help and input he set up various charitable foundations and supported worthy causes and projects all over the world. Visited them too, to raise their profile.  
Zeno Vedast could do some good.  
And Sophie made sure he did just that. 

He could never, in his wildest dreams have anticipated the effect she would have on his life.  
Laughingly he still called her 'jimminy' , it was his nickname for her, his pet name, she was his little conscience. 

He loved her with a passion that was all encompassing. 

oOo

They were nearing the end of the relentless tour. The final few dates remaining.  
After a while one hotel room looks pretty much like another. How many thousands of miles they travelled Sophie lost count. Jetting from place to place, or travelling in the tour bus.  
Harry didn't really live the rockstar lifestyle now he had Sophie. Sure there were still parties, and some high jinks, and occasionally he couldn't resist the odd practical joke, but mostly it was back to the hotel suite and crash into bed. 

Tonight a massive stadium, one of the largest they'd played.  
The crowd was vast. A seething mass of humanity.  
Chanting.

"ZENO! ZENO! ZENO!" 

Sophie was standing in the wings. He liked her to be there. He liked to give her a kiss and have her wish him luck before he went on stage, and he liked to know she was still there while he performed. He couldn't really see her in the dark recesses but it didn't matter, just knowing she was there made him feel safe.  
Afterwards he would be on a tremendous emotional bender. Wired. On a total high. Bouncing around like tigger.  
Horny as fuck.  
But Sophie learned how to handle it all. Remove him from it, calm him and bring him gently back down, usually fairly athletic sex was involved.......and camomile tea.  
Sex and camomile tea. 

And perhaps a long soak in a warm bath.....rather than an invigorating shower! 

Well, whatever worked! 

This particular evening she noticed he faltered a couple of times, it was only a tiny flicker, but Sophie was so attuned to him, that she spotted it immediately.  
During _'Let me Believe'_ he sang the verse twice, instead of going into the refrain, the band adjusted and fell in behind him, but she noticed Jim and Barry exchange a glance.  
Later, he forgot the words of _'Doesn't see me'_ completely. Played a fabulous guitar riff to cover himself, then started with the next verse as if nothing happened. 

From up on stage, he squinted down onto the sea of faces. He could only actually make out the first few rows, after that it was just heads in the dark, or waving hands, banners and flags.  
Suddenly everything seemed to swim before his eyes.  
It lasted a few moments then cleared. As if there was a mist there, which then dissipated.  
Coming off after the encore he stumbled...........

.......and collapsed. 

oOo

The fear that Sophie felt as he sank down in the wings into her arms was terrible.  
His eyes rolling up into his head, his body limp.  
An ambulance was there in seconds, and he was whisked away. 

No one was any the wiser.

Private hospital. Private room.  
Tests. 

Sophie insisted vehemently that she would not be parted from him, and he flatly refused to submit to anything without her there. 

Overnight stay. Intravenous drip. Sleeping fitfully.  
Sophie dozing in a chair beside his bed.  
He was suffering from nothing more than a virus they said. Exacerbated by exhaustion. 

He should cancel the rest of the dates and go home. Rest.

He refused. 

Discharged himself. 

Played the remainder of the dates to a rapturous reception, and completed the tour. 

oOo

Mornings at Kings Markham were so wonderful.  
A mist hung in the trees and the birds were singing, the sun just peeping in. 

Harry opened his eyes and turned his head to the right.  
Sophie's face was close to his own, curled into the curve of his body.  
Her hair was splayed out on the pillow and he marvelled at how long her eyelashes were.  
Brushing her cheek as she dozed. 

He reached towards her and placed a kiss gently on her brow. Slowly she woke, gazing at him, eyes coming into focus from sleep.  
"Hey!" She whispered softly.  
"Gonna make some tea. What some?" He asked, turning onto his side to face her.  
"Ah uh!" she replied, shaking her head. "Snuggle!"  
He smiled and pulled her into him, one leg draping over her, arms right around her middle.  
"This is nice!" He murmured. "I like morning cuddles!"  
She could feel him hardening against her, and chuckled.  
"I can tell you do!" She tutted. 

It had taken him a full fortnight after they'd returned home, to feel well again.  
The virus was particularly virulent, and he'd been tested for glandular fever, although it proved negative.  
Completely took the stuffing out of him. Weak as a kitten. Especially at first. Lost weight too.  
But with Sophie taking care of him, plenty of rest and sleep and good food. He was soon back to his usual self. 

Songs were beginning to form in his head again and he spend time noodling on the guitar, testing out melodies and trying various chord progressions.  
As Sophie moved about the house, she listened and smiled to herself.  
So clever, such a creative mind. Difficult to switch him off when he was composing. He would often work into the night, or the early hours of the morning. 

Sometimes she would creep into the studio and sit in the corner quietly, and just......listen, transported.  
On one occasion he was full of excitement as she entered. A mischievous glint in his eye.  
"I've written a song.....for the next album......for you and me!"  
"That's sweet! Can I hear it?" She sat down at his side and he leaned in to kiss her tenderly.  
"You can do better than that.....you're singing the counter melody!" He giggled gleefully.  
"Me?.......but I can't......." She began, reddening visibly.  
"Oh yes you can! I heard you that day.......on the piano......singing Golden Slumbers.....it was glorious.......it's going to be a collaboration......us.........and it'll be the best song on the album!"  
Sophie laughed, he'd never mentioned the occasion, she was unaware she'd been overheard, but he was deadly serious, his eyes were shining with the childish delight that would illuminate his whole countenance at times like this.  
It was one of the things she loved most about him. 

Being home was as good as a holiday. 

He was happy, and it showed. 

After the madness all he wanted was to be at home and to relax. Kick back. Not have to be anywhere at a given time.  
Heaven. 

He didn't have to be Zeno, just for a little while.


	20. Zeno is Made.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ultimate accolade as Zeno and Sophie travel to Los Angeles.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter in The Making of Zeno Vedast.......the title of the piece has come full circle. Zeno is made, he has been through hell and high water, but he's come through it, he's working at his best and he's found what he wanted most in life. True friendship, companionship and love. 
> 
> His character is more rounded, less self indulgent and egotistical, he has a strength behind him and he has a future with Sophie at his side.
> 
>  
> 
> Now, as the story is set in 1990/91 I've taken the award winners of the 33rd Grammy Awards and those who were there at the time. Mariah Carey won best newcomer and Record of the Year was Phil Collins Another Day in Paradise. Album of the year was actually Back on the Block by Quincy Jones. MC Hammer won best rap performance, and Bob Dylan a lifetime achievement award.  
> The venue was actually Radio City Hall in New York that year, but I've placed the awards ceremony where it is now held and has been since 2000, the Staples Centre in Downtown LA.

CHAPTER TWENTY.  
ZENO IS MADE.

 

_**Eight months later.** _

"Harry?" 

" _Coming!"_

"Zip me up?" 

_"Wow! You look gorgeous. That colour is great on you."_

"I'm crapping myself. Does it show?" 

_"You'll be fine. It gets easier. Trust me!"_

_"Come on, car's here. We can't be too fashionably late, or they won't let us in!"_

oOo

Nominated for a Grammy. Best album.  
Pretty much the highest musical accolade. 

They were flying out to LA.  
Jim, Nige, Barry, Helen and the other girlfriends were going too. 

At the airport a large group of fans waited by the railings.  
As soon as they spotted Zeno they started to scream. He walked over and plunged fearlessly in amongst them.  
Giving the security guys a heart attack.  
Crowding around him alarmingly. Sophie watched from a safe distance as they fought to get close to him. Tried to touch him, reaching out to press his hand or arm. Some hugged him, pulling him down, dragging at his neck.  
He signed cards for them, passed them around. One girl wanted him to sign her left breast with a black felt tip. They'd bought album covers for him to autograph, gave him presents, cards and flowers.  
Mobbed him. Someone pulled off his scarf, another tried to snog him but he ducked out of her way.  
All the time he remained animated, smiling, telling them to stay calm and they'd get their turn, he would sign for them, no one would be left out.  
When security finally came in to usher him away, he ran back to where Sophie waited patiently, turning to wave as the camera flashes went off in his face, almost blinding him. 

He walked away then, his arm wrapped securely around Sophie's waist. 

"I don't know how you do it." She said quietly. "So nice to everyone, all the time."  
"I have to be. It's all they want. What if they waited their whole lives just to see Zeno, and when they did he was grumpy and rude and miserable? Can't do that to people." He smiled, tugging her closer.  
"They all think they know me, through the songs and the media. They see me as a friend they invite into their houses to play for them, or be on telly......it's a familiarity thing. You get used to it." He fumbled for his passport, as they reached the VIP boarding area. 

"I don't think I could." She smiled.  
"Not jealous are you?" He asked, his brow furrowed suddenly.  
"Not at all. As long as it's me you're coming home to, I'm happy to share you with them!" She responded, happily.  
"I couldn't do all this if I didn't have you." He replied, looking down at her. "It's never been quite as full on as this. And if you weren't there to keep me real, it'd be very easy to let it all go to my head. Get carried away. But as long as I have you........" He faltered, lamely.  
Sophie held his hand tight.  
"You've got me!" She hummed, and bought the clasped hand up to her lips, kissing it tenderly. 

The flight was long and rather tedious. Harry slept a good deal of the time. Watched a movie.  
Then put on his headphones and took out paper and a pencil, and began playing with writing down random sentences, phrases, then rearranging them, turning them into potential song lyrics. 

Landing at LAX a similar crowd of adoring fans waited, and the whole scenario played itself out again. Yelling, screaming, crying " Zeno! Zeno!" " I love you!" "Marry me!"  
Once again, he gave them all smiles and signed stuff even though jaded after the long flight. 

oOo

They were staying at The Mondrian.  
Sophie didn't think she'd ever seen anything more grand and beautiful. 

Shortly after their arrival, a message was sent down......Elton John was staying in the penthouse suite.  
He'd asked to meet them. 

Sophie had to actually pinch herself.  
Here she was, sitting amongst vases of beautiful exotic flowers, sipping PG Tips, he had his own supply, well of course he did!  
Chatting to Elton. ELTON! For heavens sake! And David. Such a lovely couple.

Harry seemed perfectly at ease, but she was struck dumb. Completely unable to form a sentence.  
Apparently they were both huge fans of the album. Loved it! Were sure it would win.  
Elton was playing at the awards ceremony, hence being in Town. He was going to be singing _'Sacrifice'_ and had been rehearsing earlier in the day. 

They talked about love and relationships, Sophie thought him so nice, David completely unaffected and both so kind. For a few moments she zoned out, quite overwhelmed by it all, she refocussed in time to hear Harry telling them how much she meant to him and how she'd changed his life.  
Flushed with embarrassment, flustered, she glanced at Harry, who was smiling at her in that puppy way he often did.  
"Your next album should be _'The Making of Zeno Vedast'!_ "Elton suggested. "Your third album is a journey......the fourth should reflect just how far you've come."  
"If I make it I'll dedicate it to you!" He replied, and stood up to shake him by the hand.  
"David is my rock....." Elton turned to Sophie, "and you are Zeno's......everyone needs someone behind them like that, especially in this business. It's the most important thing there is. All the rest is just window dressing."  
He gave Sophie a hug.  
"I love him." She said quietly, "that's all there is to it. It took me a while to realise it, but once I did....."  
She left that suite walking on cloud nine. 

oOo

Her hand was clutched tightly in his as they took their seats.  
Sophie was gobsmacked by the whole thing. Her eyes on organ stops as she glanced around her at all the sparkling stars.  
She felt dowdy in comparison.  
How could she compete with the shining presence of the likes of Cher or Mariah Carey?  
Rubbing shoulders with Bob Dylan, and MC Hammer.....it was another world.  
As far as Harry was concerned he had eyes only for her. 

Bruce Springsteen came up to shake hands, say hello. As you do! 

She was relieved to see Helen and the guys, familiar faces, although they weren't seated together. 

_**"Welcome to the 33rd Grammy Awards. A night featuring the cream of musical talent from all over the world!"**_

Music blared forth as the ceremony began.  
Best newcomer.  
Record of the Year. 

Then the lights dimmed. 

"On the stage tonight singing a hit song from his latest album _'Sleeping with the Past'_ it's ELTON JOHN!" 

Joyous cheering, as the flamboyantly dressed mega star walked on stage. 

 

By the time the Album of the Year category was announced and the nominees named, Sophie thought she would actually pass out, her heart was pounding so hard.  
It seemed to take an age to play through a clip of each album in the running.....  
_Quincy Jones.........for 'Back on the Block'......._  
_Mariah Carey........_  
_Phil Collins..........for .......'But Seriously'.........._  
_Wilson Phillips..........._  
_MC Hammer.........for 'Please Hammer Don't Hurt 'Em'........._  
_and Zeno Vedast.........for.........'Saving Grace'._

The expectation was gut wrenching. 

Steven Tyler opened the golden envelope and Sophie held her breath, Harry closed his fingers around hers squeezing them tight. 

_"And the winner is.............._ _**ZENO VEDAST!"** _

The place erupted. 

Sophie felt as though the whole world went into slow motion at that moment, as Harry rose to his feet beside her. Bent down and whispered, "I love you!" in her ear, then began to make his way by the least circuitous route possible, up to the stage, as _'Doesn't See Me'_ began to play in the background, to fill in the time it took him to reach the podium. 

He was hugged and handed the gilded gramophone.  
Turning it over in his hands and staring dumbly at it for a second or two, before raising his head to survey the seething mass of his peers, on their feet applauding rapturously.  
_"A popular win I think!"_ Said the voice over. 

_"Wow! Thank you. I'm overwhelmed. I have so many people to thank, that I can't begin to name them all. They know who they are. But I must mention Jim, Nige and Barry because they are an integral part of the process and there would be no album without them. No tour, no gigs and no friendship. So thanks guys!_  
_The person I most want to thank is the one without whom my life would have no meaning. She's the one who has been the making of Zeno Vedast. I wouldn't still be here without her, and I certainly wouldn't be here tonight if she hadn't come into my life."_

Sophie put her hand across her mouth and tried to stifle her sobs, if only to prevent her beautiful makeup ending up down her face. The camera panned round and focused in on her, but her attention was only on the stage. 

_"She's my support. My armour. My soulmate. Someone said to me earlier today that their partner was their rock._  
_Well, she is my rock._  
_So this is for you Sophie!"_

He held the award aloft.

_"Thank you for everything you've done for me. I love you more than I can possibly say. Please will you marry me?"_

Shrieks and whoops came from all over the auditorium, as he left the stage.  
An usher came forward and beckoned to Sophie, taking her hand, leading her out of the row to meet him in the aisle as he returned to his seat. 

They fell into each other's arms and kissed, to thunderous clapping. 

"I hadn't planned that! It was spontaneous! Honest!" He breathed. "But please Soph......will you have me as your husband?" He whispered the words into her neck, rocking her slightly from side to side, the cold of the trophy against her bare back, both completely oblivious to all the clamour around them. 

She buried her face into the fabric of his expensive designer suit.  
"I think you might have chosen a smaller and less ostentatious crowd!" She giggled.  
"I will, Harry. With all my heart. I love you so very much!" 

_"Mr Zeno Vedast.......ladies and gentlemen!"_

_Cuts to Commercial break............_

 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to sincerely thank everyone who has stuck with this story to the bitter end! And to all those who have sent lovely comments with each update, you are really kind and I always make a point of answering because I figure that if someone is kind enough to leave a comment then the least I can do is reply.   
> So thank you all very much.   
> Considering this story is not in a large fandom group I've been really pleased at how many hits there have been on it. Makes writing it all the more worthwhile! Xxxxx


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